Pieces of Me
by Smurfinablender
Summary: Jennifer Fitzsimmons finds herself enamored with the new teacher at Sheldon High, Clara Oswald. The two become fast-friends but Jennifer is surprised to find herself feeling a deeper connection. A 10-Part Fitzwin Crossover.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

She fiddled with her keys outside the door. It was only a few minutes before students would arrive and Jennifer Fitzsimmons found herself locked out of her own classroom. She switched from key to key, sliding each in, realizing it was the wrong key, and then flipping to the next on the ring. Jennifer always found herself without her key ring. She had a horrible habit of misplacing things and this was the third time this school year she had to borrow the giant key ring that the janitor dragged around. The weight of the thing burned Jennifer's forearm. How did he carry these around all day? Another key failed. Jennifer groaned in annoyance.

"Uh-oh," a feminine British voice came from behind her, "locked out again, Fitzy?"

Jennifer spun to see Clara, the first year English teacher. She had apparently moved to Iowa from over-seas only two years ago. Though Jennifer was kind to all the new teachers, she felt a connection to Clara, they became friends before the year even began. Now they often saved one another a spot in the teacher's lounge. Jennifer had taught at Sheldon High School for four years, and in those four years she had made attempts to find a group of co-workers to gravitate towards. The problem with teaching was, often times the teachers segregated into cliques just as much as the students. Sure, Jennifer had made acquaintances in her years of teaching, but she never felt truly connected to any of her co-workers. That was until the new teacher arrived.

Jennifer shrugged helpless. "I'm useless, Clara."

"That," Clara said, "I can see." She shot Jennifer a wink as she snatched the key ring from Jenn's hand.

"The trick is,"-Clara said whipping through each key quickly-"to remember the key number, 1057, 1056, and here we are, 1055." Clara held out the key to Jennifer.

Jennifer was puzzled, but trusting her friend she grabbed the key ring and slid the key into the hole, and with a small jiggle was able to effortlessly open the door to her classroom.

"How did you…" Jennifer began.

Clara shot a knowing smile, "Wouldn't you like to know?" Clara said. "The truth is, after your second time, when I sat here watching you fiddle for twenty minutes, I simply took note as to which key you used. Looks like my observation was useful, wouldn't you say?"

Jennifer leaned against the door-frame. "Well, you'd think you would have told me so I could write the number down."

"What?" Clara said. "And take away this opportunity to be the hero? No, this was a lot more fun. Plus, you know you would have simply lost the paper with the number attached,"-Clara tapped her forehead-"best to have kept it up here."

Jennifer smiled back at Clara and slipped into her room. She flipped on the lights. The room wasn't anything special; the bare, white painted cinder-block walls felt more like a prison than a High School. Jennifer tried her best to cover the walls in historical or cultural posters. Jennifer taught world history, though the standardized testing that determined her curriculum forced her to focus most of her attention on Europe. She didn't completely hate it, Europe was plenty interesting, but Jennifer wished to spend weeks on the dynasties of China or the Incan empire.

"Still having trouble with the Jacobs kid?" Clara asked as she followed Jennifer into the room.

The desk was a mess and Jennifer tried to organize it quickly as she kept up the conversation with Clara. "Don't even get me started on that boy." Jennifer said. "He comes in everyday and smarts off, disrupting the entire class, and yet each test he's in the top of the class. I'd be impressed if I wasn't sure his outbursts pull back the rest."

"Just be firm." Clara responded. "If you let them walk all over you, they'll continue to push. I know you love these kids, Jenn, but you just need to slam down your foot and take charge."

"I just hate being considered a 'strict' teacher." Jennifer said, throwing files into drawers of her desk blindly.

"Being firm doesn't mean you're strict." Clara said. "You've got it in you, I've seen you with the swim team. Just start treating the students like your team."

Jennifer stopped and looked up. "When did you see me with my swim team?"

Clara blushed. "I was leaving late one day and just happened to walk by."

"That was sweet of you." Jennifer said, noting that the pool and parking lot were on opposite sides of the building.

"School pride, Fitzy." Clara said.

Jennifer smiled. "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"When's your first meet anyway?" Clara asked.

"A couple of weeks away." Jennifer said. "I can't believe it's already almost October. The school year is racing by."

"Tell me about it," Clara said, "I'm already having to prep for midterms. We don't test like this in England. Still getting used to the education system here."

"You'll get it soon enough." Jennifer said. The bell rang over the speaker.

"Ah," Clara said, pointing to the ceiling, "that's my cue to head on my way to class."

"Thanks for saving me, Clara." Jennifer said.

"Hey, that's why I'm here. Flew into the Midwest just to save Jennifer Fitzsimmons from being locked out of her classroom."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Shoo, I'm over your sass."

Clara mocked offense, "But Fitzy, I though that was your favorite part?"

Jennifer laughed. "Not today, it isn't."

Clara laughed and headed out the door. Passing under the doorframe she turned around. "Do you guys need chaperones at these swim meets?" Clara asked.

"Like another teacher?" Jennifer responded. "Not really, we normally have enough parents."

Clara looked down at her feet. "Yeah, of course that makes sense."

"But I could always use a friend." Jennifer smiled at Clara.

Clara lifted her eyes to meet Jennifer's. "I may have to come to one," Clara said, "school pride and all."

Jennifer laughed. "School pride." she agreed.

Clara shot Jennifer a smile, her nose scrunching before spinning out into the hallway. A student almost bumped into Clara but she made an elaborate spin maneuver to avoid the collision and a goofy look appeared on her face as she looked back at Jennifer. Jennifer smiled as Clara righted herself and shot towards her own room. Jennifer caught herself watching Clara walk away. It felt good to finally have a close friend.

* * *

><p>The microwave dinged in the teacher's lounge. Jennifer popped the lid and removed leftover pasta from the previous night. She pulled up a chair to the small table. Across from her sat Linda from the science department. She was nice, Jennifer gathered, but she was near retirement and seemed to distance herself from her younger colleagues. Jennifer sat quietly, stirring the pasta, trying to get some sort of consistency of temperature. The edge would be fire, and the center ice. Jennifer had perfected the amount of heating time, to the right amount of stirring to make microwavable dishes bearable.<p>

The door opened and Clara Oswald strutted in, a look of knowing on her face. She always seemed to wear that smug smile. It wasn't one that put down others, but somehow invited them in. Jennifer simultaneously felt self-conscious and self-assured around Clara. Something about the British girl just drew Jennifer out of her shell. Jennifer smiled.

"I thought you were on lunch duty?" Jennifer asked.

"You'd think so," Clara said, "but I got Becky to cover for me."

"Now, how'd you go about that?" Jennifer asked.

The side of Clara's mouth peaked in a sly grin. "By saying, 'Becky, cover for me.' "

Linda scoffed. Clara ignored her. "I can't stand lunch duty, plus you always are miserable in here alone."

Jennifer laughed. "I can't say I mind the company. I haven't really had anyone to talk to." Jennifer said.

Linda cleared her throat.

Jennifer turned, "Oh, Linda, I didn't mean anything by that, I just meant…"

Clara stifled a giggle. The older woman rolled her eyes and took her meal out of the lounge leaving the two younger teachers alone.

"I'm so embarrassed." Jennifer said, cheeks burning. "I was so rude."

"To Linda?" Clara asked. "She was looking for an exit anyway."

Clara pulled a chair out and slid into it. She always had this unique, yet immaculate style. She had on a knee-length pleated skirt, with a cardigan, her hair braided and wrapped in a circle on the back of her head in an up-do. Jenn admired how very 'Clara' her style was.

"Fitzy?" Clara asked.

Jennifer realized that in her daze she had been looking up and down Clara, examining every piece of her outfit. The heat rose again in Jennifer's cheeks. She looked away quickly at the clock and began to fiddle with the ends of her hair.

"Yeah, sorry, just scatterbrained today." Jennifer said. "How, uh, how were your morning classes?"

"Oh, good," Clara said, "you know how it is, same kids, different day. Half will listen, half will sleep. That's if we're lucky. But I don't want to talk about work on our forty-five minute reprieve. Tell me something I don't know about you Jennifer Fitzsimmons!"

Jennifer was taken aback by the sudden inquiry. "What do you mean?" Jennifer asked, stalling.

Clara leaned over the table, elbows smacking down on the surface while resting her chin in her hands. "I'm saying," Clara said, "that I want to know more about you."

For the third time the heat rose in Jennifer's cheeks. She didn't understand why she was acting so shy. She normally was one of the more outgoing people, despite having reservations with making new friends. Jennifer could hold a conversation, she wasn't a complete introvert, but she wasn't sure what she was. She loved social occasions and spending time with people, but she had a hard time instigating. Now, lost in thought, Jennifer wasn't sure what to say. What kind of person just asks such an open-ended question? Jennifer had grown attached to Clara's bubbly personality but was always surprised by her curious inquiry.

"Uh," Jennifer began, "what do you want to know?"

"Anything," Clara said, "what do I need to know about you to be your friend? Have you killed anyone? Did you used to deal drugs? Are you a twin?"

Jennifer laughed, "No to all of those, thankfully. Lets see. Oh! I have a boyfriend, Greg, I don't think I've told you much about hi-"

"Tell me something else." Clara cut in. "Boyfriends are boring."

Jennifer laughed. "Uh, well," Jennifer stuttered, "I was pre-Olympic in the 200 meter backstroke."

"Pre-Olympic?" Clara asked. "What's pre-Olympic?"

"Ah,"-Jennifer searched for an explanation-"you see, it's kind of like the tournament before the Olympics. It's kind of like almost the Olympics? Basically I was pretty good, but not good enough to make the Olympics. Second fiddle, you know?"

Clara put her hand on Jennifer's "That's amazing!" Clara said. "How exciting, did you win trophies or medals or something?"

"Yeah," Jennifer said sitting a little straighter, "It was this really cool experience. I got to swim in a heat with a future Olympic silver medalist. It was pretty exciting. I mean, once you get anywhere close to the Olympics its just sort of a dream. Sure, some people can't take their eye off the prize long enough to soak in where they are, what they are competing for, but if you do, it's just spectacular."

Clara smiled, encouraging Jennifer.

"I guess that's what I try and pass on to my swimmers, you know?" Jennifer continued, "Enjoy competing. Push yourselves, be your best, and don't slack off, but for the love of God, enjoy the rush. Because, when you dip your head below the water, and all the sounds muffle, for those few seconds, you're left with just your thoughts. If your thoughts are only on getting that trophy or that win, you're missing the beauty of swimming. It's the feeling of the water rushing past you, the feeling of your lungs burning right before you inhale that humid breath. I don't know. There is something majestic when I'm in the water. It's like I'm flying, or something."

Jennifer felt Clara's fingers wrapping around her own on the table. She paused and looked down at them. They were soft, slightly cold, but inviting. Jennifer had never been close enough to a friend to hold hands, it felt alien to her. She liked it, she liked the closeness they were sharing. She needed more friends like Clara.

Clara pulled her hand away, noticing Jennifer's gaze.

She scratched the part in her hair, "You're so passionate." Clara observed.

Jennifer waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Swimming has been such an important part of my life, I guess I ramble about it."

"No," Clara said, "I love your passion, don't write it off and don't explain it away. Hold onto that passion and ride it."

Jennifer looked into Clara's eyes. Her genuine smile, her caring words. Jennifer couldn't understand why Clara chose her to befriend. She had walked right in, and within the first week was stopping by Jennifer's door in the mornings, and waiting to walk with her to their cars at the end of the day.

The lunch bell rang.

"Well," Clara said, "there goes my interrogation."

Clara got out of her seat and began walking to the door as Jennifer threw the remainder of her lukewarm dish into the trash.

"Hey, Clara," Jennifer called after the short brunette, "uh this might be weird, but do you want to get together sometime outside of work? Maybe hang out?"

Clara smiled. "Absolutely," she said, "just pick a day, any day. Well, except for Wednesdays, I have a thing on Wednesdays, but any other day and I'm your girl."

"Great," Jennifer said, smiling, "I'll figure something out."

"You better," Clara said, "I'm tired of carrying the weight in this friendship." The last word she accented with a smile and a cute scrunch of her nose before disappearing out the door without awaiting a response.

For the second time today, Jennifer Fitzsimmons caught herself gawking as Clara Oswald disappeared behind a door.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

7:36pm.

Looking at her watch, Jennifer rolled her eyes. Swim practice had run late and Jennifer still had tests to grade. She hated staying at the school to grade. Some teachers worked late but by the time Jennifer finished coaching swim practice she often was one of the last teachers there. She may be an adult, but the empty building with the eerie silence, and the occasional shock of the cleaning crew surprising her, did not lead to conducive grading. Jennifer preferred to collect her papers and grade in front of her television at home.

Jennifer stopped off in her room and picked up the tests from the day. She had been teaching about the mercantile trade route through the Silk Road. The test had been on the cultural and economic impacts of western and eastern civilizations exchanging goods and practices. It was one of the highlights of Jennifer's curriculum because it let her expand past the state-mandated focus-points to explore the importance of melting-pot cultural diversity. Greg never seemed to enjoy Jenn's history rants. Her first passion would always be swimming, and competing, but she allowed herself moments where she could get excited about events that happened a thousand years ago. Jennifer was appreciative of the way Clara would always pay attention when Jennifer began ranting. Clara was always curious about what interested Jennifer and would sometimes add historical tidbits to the conversation that Jennifer hadn't thought about or read before. Intellectual conversation was just as much of a workout as swimming, and Jennifer found that she got an adrenalin rush from both.

She locked her classroom door and took a left turn towards the parking lot. With the pool on one side of the school, and the teacher's parking lot on the other, Jennifer had to traverse through the entire school, with a small detour to her classroom, at the end of each day. Jennifer often wished for shorter days but couldn't imagine giving up coaching swimming. She remembered dreams of being on the Olympic stage in some exotic country, the deafening sound of the crowd causing her to worry if she'd hear the whistle blow. Then, as she submerged under the water she would be greeted with a majestic silence, the sensation of cool water across her skin.

She was thankful to get to preach that passion to her team. Jennifer was also thankful she didn't have to wear a swim-cap anymore. It used to drive her insane. She loved the long curls in her hair. The feeling of the slick, formless cap on-top of her head was unsettling. She spent so long with her fingers running through her own hair, that the sensation of her hair being hidden, of being gone, just never sat right with her.

The halls were dark, as the sun had begun to set outside. A light to the side of the hall poured from a classroom sparking Jennifer's curiosity. She walked towards the door and noticing the room number, let a smile stretch across her face.

"Now, what are you doing up here this late?" Jennifer asked as she turned the corner.

Clara jumped in her seat. The look on her face doubled Jennifer over in laughter.

"I'm sorry," Jennifer laughed, "I promise, I didn't mean to scare you. But your face!"

"You!" Clara yelled. "You are no longer my friend!"

"Aw," Jennifer said with a fake frown, "just when I was starting to like you."

"Don't even try a guilt trip." Clara responded. "You should have thought about that before you decided to give me such a fright."

"Give you _'such a fright,'_ huh?" Jennifer laughed, walking into the room. "I never meant to give you _'such a fright'_ "

"And now you're making fun of my word choices?" Clara asked. "Are you even trying to mend the wounds?"

Jennifer laughed. "Oh hush," she said, "what are you doing up here so late, anyway?"

"Oh," Clara said, "just trying to grade these essays. Problem is, um, some of them are so poorly written that I have to give my eyes breaks. I fear I'll end up slamming my head against the desk."

Jennifer nodded. "That's why I teach history," she said, "I can just ignore poor writing in favor of poor memorization of historical events."

"I'm sure they remember quite a bit," Clara said, encouragingly, "you'd have my attention."

"I had a girl," Jennifer began, "who pointed at a globe, to England, and asked if it was France."

"Don't tell me that!" Clara exclaimed placing her face into her hand. "Don't tell me American kids can't tell the difference between my home country and France!"

"It gets better," Jennifer continued, "she then nods at my correction, places her finger on Russia, and goes 'That's strange, I didn't think you could drive from France to the U.S."

"No!" Clara exclaimed again.

"Yes!" Jennifer laughed, "I looked down at her and I just had to walk away. I mean, these are sophomores in high school. Sure, most of them are bright enough to know the basics of geography, but I just didn't know how to respond. I almost had the nerve to ask her to point out where Iowa was, but I was scared she'd just point to Lithuania or something."

Clara laughed. "Oh, God, I don't feel quite as bad about my students."

They laughed off the story and sat for a moment in silence.

"How much more do you have there?" Jennifer asked.

"Too much, it seems." Clara responded.

"Well, pack up your things," Jennifer said, "I have a Chinese food delivery menu and a backlog of So You Think You Can Dance on my DVR at home. We'll just pull a late night together."

Clara smiled, "Thank you for the offer, but I couldn't intrude on you and Greg."

Jennifer dropped her smile, "Greg and I don't live together." She said. "Sure, he's been bugging me about it for months, but I'm just not ready to commit that much. We've only been together a year, I need my space."

"Well, in that case," Clara said, obviously packing up her papers, "Order up a cashew chicken, and two egg rolls!"

Jennifer smiled. "Done!"

* * *

><p>They timed it perfectly. Right as they pulled up to Jennifer's small townhouse, the deliveryman was walking up the sidewalk. Jennifer bolted to meet him and paid him for the food. Clara argued with her to split the price, but Jennifer ignored her pleas.<p>

Jenn's house wasn't large by any means, but neither was it small. She loved how quaint it was, and she didn't have to worry about upstairs neighbors. She walked in and threw her over-sized purse containing her coaching gear on the small bench that sat in the entryway. She showed Clara to the living room and as Clara took the food to the coffee table, the smell filling the modest house, Jennifer opened her fridge looking for drinks.

"What do you drink?" Jennifer asked. "I've got mostly beers and ciders. I think I also have a Cab Sauv bottle or something, though it might just be vinegar by now."

Clara laughed. "I'm not really big on wine, I don't think." She said.

"Either am I," Jennifer called from the kitchen, "Greg buys me a bottle, from time to time, because he thinks it's romantic. They usually end up as kitchen decoration."

"Cider is fine." Clara said.

"You a brand girl?" Jennifer asked. "I think I got a Woodchuck in here but mostly just Orchard."

"I am, but it's rare here in the states, either of those will be fine." She said.

Jennifer walked into the room with two bottles, handing the green one to Clara and sitting down with a beer for herself.

"So, what is it?" Jennifer asked.

"What is what?" Clara responded.

"The super rare drink, I'll pick some up for next time."

Clara visibly blushed. "It's an Irish Cider called Magners, I don't know that the offies carry it here."

"I'm sure I can find it in one of the _'offy'_ stores." Jennifer responded with a wink.

Clara brushed off the tease. "No wine for you, no?" She asked.

"I never really got into it." Jennifer said. "When we'd go out after swim meets in college, the guys on the team gave me crap anytime I had anything remotely girly. I just got used to drinking beer or cider. Habit turned to preference as I got older."

Clara laughed and leaned into Jennifer's side. The bare skin on her arm brushed against Jennifer's. It was smooth, but not that overly smooth feeling of someone who obsesses over lotion. Clara felt naturally smooth, like she had never been through anything rough, never having burned or calloused her skin. Jenn found herself suddenly brushing Clara's arm with the back of her fingers.

Clara turned and looked down at her fingers. Jennifer's eyes looked from her fingers to Clara's eyes. The dark brown circles calmed her. People say brown eyes can't be attractive, but Clara Oswald didn't seem to have opaque, flat eyes, but rather deep, endless browns, beginning a caramel on the edges and fading down darker into her pupils, with no harsh lines, just the brown fading perfectly into the blacks. Jennifer knew she should talk or say something, but for the moment she couldn't focus. Clara stared back, and Jennifer could see a smile rise on Clara's face. Suddenly, Clara's eyes darted from Jennifer's eyes down to her mouth, and then back up to her eyes. The movement was quick, almost imperceptible but the subtle hint was enough to jolt Jennifer out of her daze.

Jennifer turned away.

"I am starving." Jennifer said.

Clara was quiet, not responding immediately. Then, as if thinking of exactly what to say, Clara straightened her posture and pulled her plate into her lap.

"As am I," she said, "better get moving if I'm going to get these essays graded."

Jennifer ate slowly, watching the show. The two sat in silence, but Jennifer could see Clara looking at her from the side, gauging her emotions. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like something was off between them. Jennifer worried that she may have made her friend uncomfortable for randomly touching her arm, for looking in her eyes for so long. She felt completely embarrassed. A knot formed in her stomach. Her shoulders tingled and while her belly and cheeks seemed to burn with a fire, her shoulders felt of ice.

Clara took a single cashew on her fork, and turning the utensil upside-down slid it in her mouth. She ate her entire meal this way, small bites held on the tip of her fork, each one entering with the fork overturned. Jennifer found herself unnecessarily fascinated with Clara's eating habits. She tried to focus on the television. She had to will herself not to watch Clara's every move. She chalked it up to friendly curiosity. She found the entire habit, adorable. What bothered her was that it wasn't like a cute puppy, or a cueing child kind of adorable. It was fully, and wholly endearing. Jennifer remembered when she first started dating Greg. She remembered the way he would roll pens through his fingers. She remembered the way he rubbed his nose when he was trying to play it cool. Jenn loved the first time she saw the idiosyncrasies in a person she cared about. The first time she applied those little moments to her memory, so she could recall them when laying alone in her bed, staring up at the fan spinning above, lonely.

Why was she locking these memories away? Why was she diving so deep into dissecting the little nuances of her friend? Jennifer couldn't remember noticing these little pieces of any other friends. Something about Clara Oswald absolutely fascinated Jennifer. Something that she yearned to figure out.

They finished their meals and dug deep into grading. Clara would read aloud the worst grammatical offenders, and Jennifer would be sure to point out horribly inaccurate answers on her tests. On occasion Clara would speak up and read a profound statement, lifting up one of her students and discussing how even one of them that got it, that wrote and spoke with enthusiasm could make up for all of those who failed so horribly at the English language. Jennifer would bring up a test question, and get in a long-winded discussion on the event, describing exactly the way she wanted to teach it, and exactly the way the curriculum had to be molded to teach it.

Sometimes they'd argue.

It wasn't the type of arguing where one was trying to win, it was where two people brought their knowledge to the table, laying it out and picking which parts made sense, and which lacked credible evidence. It was never who was speaking what points, but rather what the points themselves were saying. There was respect in their words, and there was intelligence in their statements.

Jennifer would curl up with a throw pillow hugged in her lap, and Clara sat with her feet tucked beneath her on the couch, her skirt billowed out. Their intellectual discussions turned to personal stories of Jennifer's small town life, and of Clara's European upbringing. They talked about Clara's parents, and Christmases spent with families. Clara often talked about a favorite uncle she had, and how they would go on adventures together, always exploring. Jennifer imagined running through a farm in northern England. The small field segmented with short walls of stone covered in greenery. Jennifer yearned for adventures away from Iowa. With every one of Clara's stories, Jennifer could see herself tagging along.

Jenn wished to explore the world, and Clara's stories allowed her to do just that.

Many papers, and many drinks later, they bid one another good night. It was after midnight that Jennifer walked Clara out. Right before she left, Clara turned and wrapped her arms around Jennifer. She was thrown off at first, but calmed into the embrace, holding her friend. Being a couple inches taller, she found her nose in Clara's hair. Without thinking she inhaled and closed her eyes.

Clara let her go and walked down the walkway, turning around at the end to let a smile cross her face and a subtle wink escape. Jennifer stood in the doorway, watching as Clara slid in her car and eventually drove off. As the red tail lights blurred in the distance Jennifer stayed at the door, looking out into the night.

She remembered a paper she wrote in college on memories. The paper discussed how memories are best made when paired across multiple sensations. The more that occur, the easier it is to retain the memory.

Sound, touch, sight, taste, and finally, smell.

Jennifer locked the memory away in the recesses of her mind and walking inside, closed the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

The air was thick with the smell of chlorine. Despite being humid and stale, Jennifer felt alive within the enclosed room. The sound from the bleachers echoed off the walls, making it sound like the audience was much more in number than they were. It was a strange phenomenon that helped the swimmers focus. It made them feel wanted and encouraged. Jennifer scanned the crowd and one face stood out, a face that made her feel encouraged.

There were two swim meets that occurred out-of-district. The four hour drive to southern Iowa was never fun, but the booster club always handled fundraising so the team could stay together in a local motel, with ample chaperones, of course. The over-night trip turned one of the most despised meets into an instant favorite among the team. Jennifer always rejected the club paying for her motel, choosing to cover her own room. She told herself that the funds were for the team, not for her, but really covering her own room allowed her some much-needed time to herself. Sure, Jennifer loved the team like they were a family. Some of them even came to her for dating advice and treated her more like an older sister than an over-baring adult. However, after a long bus ride, and an equally long meet, Jenn needed time to unwind.

The face in her view winked. Jennifer smiled back. She wasn't sure why Clara insisted on traveling four hours just to watch a meet. She could have easily come to any of the more local meets, but she had said that Jenn needed the encouragement more on this one. She was right.

So far the team had been moderately successful. They had trouble in the 200 Medley Relay, and although they won the Women's 200 Freestyle, they hadn't placed again the entire event. Freestyle Relays were beginning, and her team had lost morale. She called Rebecca, her star freshman, to gather everyone around. As the team huddled up, Jennifer took a breath and gathered her thoughts.

"It's been rough today, guys," Jennifer said, "I won't try and sugar-coat it. However, that's the bad news, that's the past. We can't change the past, it's already occurred; it's written in stone. All we can do is look to the possibilities of the future, of these next events. There are a thousand different ways this can turn out, there is one possibility where we come dead last in all of the future events, but there is also one possible outcome where we take home a win for each of these. What kind of people are you? Are you the kind that accepts the loss before the future even comes? Or are you the kind of person that sees the possibility of success and chases after it?"

Nods began shifting through the huddle as Jennifer continued. "We have good swimmers here. I'm proud of each and every one of you. However, we're up against adversity. Things have gotten tough and we have to push on. The only way to face the future is with optimism. We have to go in, and expect to get out of here as a success story. Whether you think you can, or can't, you're right. If we motivate ourselves, if we push everything we have, exhausting every avenue and push forward, then we can do anything. We can beat anything. Are you guys going to throw in the towel?"

"No!" They cheered in unison.

"Are you guys going to give your all?"

"Yes!"

"Are you guys going to beat the odds?"

"Yes!"

"What are we?"

"Sheldon Orabs!"

The team cheered and the next swimmers went to their starting posts. Jennifer always hated the Sheldon mascot. It wasn't clever or intimidating. The mascot name was literally just a mash-up of their school colors, orange and black, Orab. When Jennifer first started at Sheldon High she had made the mistake of asking why they hadn't just changed the name. She had greatly underestimated small-town loyalties and began a heated debate within the staff meeting. Half the teachers stood behind the mascot in the name of tradition, while other teachers cried out embarrassment. It didn't help either case that the name earned the high school a place on ESPN's "Worst Mascot" list. It seemed a topic best to ignore. For the past four years, Jennifer had done just that.

Jennifer looked to the stands again, and noticed Clara wasn't looking at the swimmers, but rather at her. Jennifer smiled again and gave a small wave before returning to her job. Jennifer wasn't sure the outcome of the meet, but she was glad she had a friend to share it with.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry you drove all the way out here for that." Jennifer said.<p>

Clara walked beside her. "Well," Clara said, "I was hoping that I might be some kind of good-luck charm, but it doesn't seem I was."

Jennifer laughed. "We can't win every meet, and that long drive kills the team."

"They didn't let the outcome get them down!" Clara said.

She was right about that. Despite Jennifer's pep-talk, despite the last-ditch attempt at a morale-boost, the team had lost almost every event. Jennifer wasn't upset. She knew that sometimes, despite all the effort, despite all of the perseverance and determination, you lose. Losing wasn't failure; it just meant that sometimes things are out of your hands. Jennifer remembered that from her days as a swimmer. She could have days where she beat swimmers twice as good as her, and days where it seemed she was swimming against ocean waves.

"Sometimes you can't help the outcome," Jennifer said, "but giving your all, making a valiant effort, that's what counts."

Clara smiled. They were walking out to Clara's car. Jennifer had ridden the bus down with the team, but decided to ride back to her room with Clara. She felt horrible at the lack of time she had spent with her friend after such a long drive.

"I didn't ask," Jennifer said, "what hotel did you get a room at?"

Clara blushed looking down at her watch, "I actually didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Get a room." Clara said, "I just figured I'd drive along home."

"Drive home?" Jennifer asked, incredulous, "Are you aware what time it is?"

Clara scratched the top of her head, "Yeah. I kinda messed that plan right up, didn't I?"

Jennifer laughed. "You're staying with me."

"No, I couldn't."

"Yes, you could, and you will. I have an entire room to myself and it's already paid for. You came all the way down here to cheer us on and we didn't even do well. The least I can do is offer you a place to crash."

Clara looked around. "Um," She said, biting both her bottom and top lip as she thought. "Yeah, I guess I could do that."

"Good," Jennifer said as she opened the passenger door, "but dinner is on you this time."

They drove off, and after grabbing a bite to eat at the only open deli they could find, they headed back to the motel. Jennifer twisted the key and the door opened revealing a room spilled with every shade of brown imaginable. The wall had wood paneling that hadn't been popular since the seventies while the bed comforter was the worst shade of beige Jennifer had seen. The carpet even seemed to be an orange shag style.

"It's not exactly the Marriott," Jennifer apologized.

"It's perfect," Clara said, "thank you so much for inviting me to stay."

They walked in and Jennifer placed her suitcase next to the bed before falling back onto it. Clara held the twelve pack of beer they had picked up from a gas station, while holding a bag of ice in the other hand. The motel didn't have a fridge, so they made use of the bathroom sink by filling it with ice to keep the beers cold.

Jennifer flipped through the channels trying to find a movie or something but finally giving up, she shut the thing off. Clara hopped on the bed next to her, beer in hand, and curled her feet beneath her.

"Most trouble you've ever been in." Clara declared suddenly.

"What?" Jennifer asked.

"Come on, Fitzy, we're having a girls night, and I want to know your secrets." Clara said, a sly smile creeping across her face, "You're one of the nicest people I know, and because of that, I want to know about a time you weren't so nice."

"Like getting grounded or a ticket or something?"

"Sure, or maybe a time you got arrested by the coppers." Clara said.

Jennifer laughed. "I have never been arr…" Jennifer trailed off.

"I knew it!" Clara declared.

"It was nothing!" Jennifer said.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Ok, ok, fine." Jennifer said, "This is so embarrassing."

"The more embarrassing the story, the better it is."

"Ok," Jennifer began, "It was in college. I was with a bunch of guys from the swim team, and one of them had a truck. Now, coming from small-town Iowa, I was used to a group of us just riding around doing nothing in the bed of a truck, but this guy, what was his name?"-Jennifer looked up trying to recall-"Ben! Anyway, there were two guys and my friend Tiffany squeezed in the tiny cab of the truck while me, Ben and two other guys were in the bed of the truck with a six-pack."

"Now that doesn't sound safe at all." Clara teased.

"It wasn't." Jennifer said, "So we drive by this supermarket and Ben yells into the cab telling the guys to pull into the parking lot. Now it's not horribly late, maybe nine at night, and so the place is still fairly busy. Well we're all laughing and the truck drives up by the front of the store right as this eighty-year-old woman walks out."

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, Yes," Jennifer continued, "So, Ben stands up, and pulls out this giant water gun, like uh, what were the called? Super Soakers! And he just drenches this lady. I'm talking horribly. I'm trying to pull him back, but he's had too much to drink already and he just screams 'Go blue!' and we race off."

"Was the lady alright?" Clara asked.

"Yeah, nothing big, but she wrote down the license plate and long story short, everyone in the truck got two hundred hours community service, except for Ben who got a three thousand dollar fine, and a thousand hours community service."

Clara dropped her face into her hand.

"I was so embarrassed. I spent my entire life being the good kid and here I was in a stupid college drive-by water-shooting. My parents were furious. I think they made me do an extra two hundred hours on-top of the court-ordered ones."

"That's it," Clara declared, "I need to find my own room, I don't feel safe in here with a fugitive."

"Oh, hush!" Jennifer yelled, throwing a pillow at her.

They continued this way for a couple hours, swapping stories. Clara told stories about home, filled with embarrassing dates, funny holiday meals and her first love. As the night wore on the stories lost their comedic edge and grew deeper in topic. Jennifer discussed her first boyfriend. Clara talked about losing her Nan. Jennifer talked honestly about her disappointment in not making the Olympic team. They were vulnerable, and they were open. As the drinks began the disappear, and the stories grew personal, Jennifer found herself laying in Clara's lap, Clara's fingers running through her long curly hair.

"Then, he just, left." Clara said.

"Just like that?" Jennifer asked.

Tears began to fill Clara's eyes and she looked off, caught in memories. "Yeah, he just, disappeared. It was like, he came in my life so suddenly, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted him there, but right when I thought we had something, right when I thought that maybe our friendship was deeper, right when I opened my heart he just faded out of my life."

"Where'd he go?" Jennifer asked.

"Oh, he had somewhere else to be, I guess. It's complicated but, I know he never meant to hurt me."

"Did you ever see him again?" Jennifer asked.

"Yeah," Clara continued, "but it just never felt the same again."

Jennifer sat up and looked Clara in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Clara."

"Don't be!" She said. "It is, what it is. Sometimes we chase after something, and it works, it just clicks, and other times it's just all in our head, right?"

Jennifer lifted a hand and tucked an errant strand of Clara's hair behind he ear. "Completely," she said, "we wonder if what we feel is real, or if it's just in our mind."

Clara looked back at Jennifer. "If they feel the connection like we do."

"If we're friends…" Jennifer added.

"…Or something, more." Clara whispered.

Jennifer caught herself looking into Clara's eyes. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, but she lost track of how long the pause in their conversation had lasted. She couldn't think of the next word to say, she couldn't think of what to add. She just looked at Clara, who stared right back at her. Then, Clara did the thing she did at Jennifer's house, the one thing that caused Jennifer to look away last time. Jennifer couldn't explain why, she wasn't sure why it had made her so uncomfortable, why it had bothered her before. Jennifer wasn't even sure what it meant, or why such a subtle movement had such a large impact. Jennifer watched Clara's eyes in slow-motion. First she bit her lip, and pulled her eyebrows in, studying Jennifer, eyes locked. Then, Clara's eyes broke free from Jenn's gaze, and shot down to Jennifer's lips before returning quickly to her eyes. It was quick, it was small, and it was an invitation.

Jennifer made her move.

The sensation of Clara's lips against hers was instantaneous. The kiss began softly but soon the inebriation and passion took hold. What began as a small kiss, as a small secret that friends might keep, exploded into every emotion, every desire each had held back. Clara pressed into Jennifer, taking charge. Before Jennifer knew it, Clara was sitting in her lap, lips exploring her neck. Jennifer could hardly breathe. Her hands slipped under the back of Clara's shirt, feeling the moist sweat.

Clara pulled Jennifer towards her, towards the edge of the bed, and then, with Jennifer sitting on the edge, pulled up her skirt and straddled Jennifer's thigh. She ran her fingers through Jennifer's hair. Jenn responded by sliding her hand up the side of Clara's thigh, feeling the heat between Clara's legs on her own.

Clara breathed a hot, humid breath in Jenn's ear, pulling on the bottom of her shirt, stretching the fabric out. Jenn began untucking Clara's blouse from the back of her skirt, freeing it entirely as Clara pushed her hips into Jenn's thigh.

Jennifer felt Clara's fingers pulling at the button on her shorts. Jenn pressed her hand on the small of Clara's back, feeling her hips as she slid back and forth. She found herself biting on Clara's lower lip as Clara's fingers began walking down, into Jenn's shorts, rubbing the hair beneath her panties, sliding lower.

Jennifer choked on her breath, her stomach a knot of anticipation. She tried to kiss Clara but Clara pulled back, teasing her with a smile. Jenn lifted her hips to meet Clara's fingers as they slid into her. She pushed forward, fighting Clara's protests before pressing her lips into Clara's. Clara surrendered, kissing Jenn back. Her finger rubbing circles around Jenn's button, Jenn's fingers digging into her back, popping the clasp on her bra.

Clara slammed Jenn back on the bed and lifting an arm, turned off the lights.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

A ticking sound came from the clock to Jennifer's left. The room was dim, lit by a very faint blue hue from the window. Jenn hadn't looked at the time, but she knew it couldn't be later than six in the morning. She had been up for over an hour, staring into the darkness of the ceiling. She felt the warmth of the body beside her. She didn't need to reach out to make sure Clara was real. She didn't need to check to see what she was wearing, Jennifer's own lack of clothes answered that question. She was naked, with another woman, in a motel, four hours from home.

The memories of the night raced through Jennifer's mind. She thought about the stories, and Clara running her fingers through Jenn's hair. She thought about the look. She thought about the kiss.

Everything past that moment had been a blur. She saw the memories as flashes more than a constant, chronological event. She remembered tastes, and smells. She remembered the touch, and the sensations. She remembered Greg.

What was she doing? Jennifer couldn't believe this had happened. She had finally made a friend, a close friend, and it evolved into romance. She tried to wrap her mind around the entire concept. Jennifer couldn't be gay, she was in a serious relationship. But everything felt so right, so perfect.

The body next to her rolled over. Clara pushed herself closer, sighing in her sleep, her sleepy breath exhaling. Jennifer looked at Clara, the darkness hiding her features, but not her silhouette.

Jennifer tried to figure out what she was going to do. What did any of this mean? The thought of being with Clara seemed, strangely inviting, but the idea was so foreign to her, so unthought-of. Jennifer had invested over a year into Greg, and now she had cheated on him. Jennifer felt the anxiety within her. She needed answers; she needed to know what had happened. Had it been the alcohol, or was something really there.

Jennifer remembered Clara's gaze while in her living room, she remembered the feeling of warmth rising in her chest as Clara's eyes shot down to Jennifer's lips. She remembered the confusion at the time, and the lack-there-of last night.

Jennifer had made the first move.

Clara curled her arms into her chest and slid closer. Jennifer abandoned her worries and apprehensively lifted an arm around Clara. She laid her head on Jennifer's shoulder and without thinking, Jennifer kissed the top of her head, before finally falling back asleep.

* * *

><p>When Jennifer next awoke the room was alit with natural sunlight. Her temples hurt slightly, and her eyes were dry. She wasn't exactly hungover, but she definitely felt the effects of the previous night. She turned over to see an empty spot in the bed where Clara had been.<p>

Jenn sat up and looked around the room. The bathroom door was open, with the light off, and Jennifer couldn't see any sign of Clara. A painful realization stung in her chest. She had left. Jennifer had been too preoccupied with her own worries that she hadn't thought about what Clara was feeling. Jennifer worried that Clara might have felt guilty and slid out of the room. Jennifer ran her fingers through her hair and looked down at the bed.

_I made the first move,_ she thought to herself, _I'm so stupid._ What if Clara regretted everything from the previous night? What if she had run? What if this entire stupid night had ruined the only friendship that mattered to Jennifer?

Jenn found herself rolling the worst-case scenarios over in her head. She stood and slipped a shirt over her bare top. Pulling on some athletic shorts, she walked around the room trying to busy herself. She grabbed the empty bottles and piled them in the trashcan and began picking up the scattered clothes.

The door opened.

Jennifer stopped and turned. Clara walked in with two coffees and a bag of bagels. Her hair was thrown up in a messy-bun, and she was wearing a different outfit from the day before, a red blouse over a comfortable pair of jeans. _So, she had brought a change of clothes after all, _Jennifer thought. The sun from outside haloed her silhouette and she smiled at Jennifer as she walked into the room. Jennifer stood, frozen. Part of her felt the warmth fill her chest as she saw Clara bringing her breakfast, thoughtful and caring. However, a question nagged at the back of Jennifer's mind. She needed answers, she felt confused and alone. Yet, somehow, despite the loneliness, she felt the most genuine companionship she had felt in years. The conflicting emotions gave Jennifer a headache worse than the hangover.

"Looks like someone decided to wake up." Clara said.

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "I had trouble sleeping last night."

Clara looked over at Jennifer cautiously before righting herself and placing the coffee on top of the small set of drawers that the old CRT-television sat on.

"I thought you could use some coffee," Clara said, looking away, "and while I was out, I figured we could use a little something to eat."

Jennifer finally broke free from the spot that held her. Hesitant, she walked up to the table and grabbed her coffee. She needed to get by Clara to do so, and found herself leaving a much wider birth than she normally would. Grabbing her drink, she stood sipping from it and looking off into the distance, lost in thought.

Clara grabbed her own and looked up at Jennifer before turning and walking to the bed and sitting down. She, too, took a sip in silence.

"Oh, shit," Jennifer said, suddenly, "I didn't even think about the bus, they should be packing up to head back by now."

Clara stood and stepped out to stop her. "Don't worry," Clara said, "I told them you weren't feeling well, I said I would take you home once you stopped throwing up."

"Oh." Jennifer said. "Good, good. Uh, did they ask about where you were staying?"

Clara took a small, almost imperceptible step back. "I didn't think it really mattered." She said.

"Yeah," Jennifer cut in, trying not to sound phased, "you're right, I don't know why it would."

Clara took a drink of her coffee, eyes on Jennifer. Jennifer didn't make eye-contact.

"Fitzy…" Clara began.

Jennifer stared at the drink in her hand, lost in thought.

Clara stood and walked over to her. Jennifer tensed as she got close.

"Jenn," Clara said, "talk to me."

"About what?" Jennifer lied. "I'm fine, it's fine, I'm just trying to get over a hangover, nothing big." She forced one of her signature smiles.

The lie wasn't good enough. Clara placed a finger under Jennifer's chin and lifted it, forcing Jennifer to look her in the eyes. "You're closing off," she said, "don't do that, not with me, talk to me."

Jennifer searched for what to say. She opened her mouth to speak before her voice hid back within her chest. Her thoughts pounded at her mind, a hundred things she wanted to say, the courage to say none.

"It's about last night," Clara said for Jennifer, "talk to me, what are you feeling?"

"I'm not gay, Clara." Jennifer said, harsher than she intended.

The look that crossed Clara's face ripped Jennifer in two. Jennifer wanted to break down, she wanted to fix it.

"I mean," Jennifer said, "I don't know what I am, but I have a boyfriend, and he's great, and I really like you. I don't understand why I'm feeling both of these feelings. I don't understand why I'm into you. I'm sorry I kissed you last night and I-"

"Stop." Clara whispered. "First, don't you ever apologize for last night. Don't you ever. Second, you can be into both. Fitzy, I'm bisexual, my first relationship was with a girl."

"So, this wasn't new for you?" Jennifer asked.

Clara smiled. "It was new in all the ways it needed to be new." She said. "It was special, it meant something."

Jennifer was silent, lost in thought. Growing up in a small Iowan town, Jennifer hadn't really experienced a lot of exposure to any of this. In college, Jennifer had seen a few lesbian couples, and had a gay friend on the swim team, but other than that she felt completely clueless. Jennifer prided herself on her intelligence, and right now she felt completely inept.

Clara stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "Jennifer," Clara said, "I care about you, and this wasn't an accident, and this wasn't random, and it sure as hell wasn't the drinks. Last night was you, and last night was me, and if you tell me I wasn't good, so help me I will throw this coffee in your face."

Jennifer smiled. "No," Jennifer said, "I mean, I don't have a lot of experience, but I definitely wouldn't say you were bad."

"Good." Clara said with a wink.

Clara wanted Jennifer to hug her, she wanted Jennifer to kiss her. Jennifer could see all of this, but couldn't do it. It was all still so new.

"So, uh," Jennifer began, "how do you like both?"

Clara choked on her drink. "How do _you_ like both?" She asked with a side grin. "It's the same as liking two completely different guys, or two completely different girls. Sometimes, I'm really into a girl, and no person, girl or guy, seems to compare. Other times it's the same thing but instead it's a guy I fancy."

"So, you can't control it?" Jennifer asked, nervously.

"Can you control who you like?" Clara said. "We fall for who we fall for. It's not like I have a boyfriend and the next day I find I only want to date girls. You love who you love, in that moment. Again, it's the same as you being really into some big athletic guy. Yeah, you might like an artsy more scrawny guy later, but do you find yourself randomly thinking you're only into scrawny guys while still with your athletic boyfriend? No. It's kind of like that. You love who you love. You learn to ignore what sex that person is, and focus on _who_ that person is."

Jennifer took a sip of her drink, taking in what Clara was saying.

"It's ok to be confused," Clara said, "I hope you don't feel like I pushed you into this, I hope you didn't feel pressured. I like you Jenn, quite a bit, but I don't want you to feel I pushed this on you."

Jennifer smiled. "You didn't." She said. It wasn't enough, Jenn knew she needed to be more encouraging like Clara but she couldn't think of anything to add to the statement.

"I like you too," Jennifer said after a period of silence, "I guess, I have for a while now. I've always felt that this was a special friendship and I don't know."

Clara pressed forward, inside of Jennifer's personal bubble, "Good," She said, taking Jennifer's hand in hers. "because we have a four hour drive in a little while, and it would be really awkward if you didn't."

Jenn laughed and kissed Clara without thinking. "Oh," Jenn said, "I'm sorry, I don't know why-"

Clara placed a finger on Jennifer's lips, silencing her. "Nope, none of that, no apologies. I've waited months for you to kiss me, don't think after one kiss last night, however long it lasted, that I'm done with your kisses, Jennifer Fitzsimmons."

Jennifer blushed. "That was pretty intense." Jenn said, raising her hand to her lips.

Clara smiled and stepped forward, even closer. "Intense like this?" She said. She slowly moved her face closer to Jennifer's. Jennifer felt Clara's lips press against her, tasting the hint of sweetened coffee. Jenn slid a hand onto the small of Clara's back, and Clara ran a hand through Jennifer's hair. Then, before it got any farther, Clara backed away.

"Wow." Jennifer said.

Redness rose in Clara's cheeks. "Yep, I'll definitely want more of those." Clara said with almost a giggle.

"It definitely wasn't just the alcohol." Jennifer said.

Clara laughed and began to press-in for another kiss.

"But what about Greg?" Jennifer asked.

Clara stepped back once more. She took a deep breath. "Well, I can give you whatever time you need." She said. "This is all new, and I'm a patient girl. You don't have to run home and tell him you were snogging with a co-worker at a swim meet. I'm willing to let you work things out with him. If you want time to think before you make any moves, I'm willing to do that. I've been where you are, I know how confusing this can be and as much as I want to sneak in your classroom on breaks and kiss you against the wall, next to that god-awful Winston Churchill poster, I am willing to wait. You're worth waiting for, Jennifer."

Jennifer grabbed Clara's hands in her own. "How are you so encouraging?" Jennifer asked.

"I'm three parts sass and one part adorable." Clara said, "I make the mood light, and make you forget your stresses with my smile."

A loud guffaw escaped Jennifer, autonomous of her control. "What am I going to do with you, Clara?"

"My personal opinion is to kiss me." Clara said. "But if you give me a couple days I'm sure I can give you a more thought-out list."

Jennifer did exactly that. She slid her hands in the back pockets of Clara's jeans and kissed her. Jennifer wasn't sure what she was doing, she wasn't sure what any of this meant, but right there, in that motel, Jennifer didn't want to let Clara go.

* * *

><p><em>Authors Note: Co-Writing credit for this chapter goes to my test reader, and good friend Jules. Her help and input were invaluable to make this chapter right. I thank her for all of her help on my fics, but for this chapter I wanted to thank her contributions with an official co-writing credit.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

Dreams aren't just for sleeping.

Jennifer floated in the surreal feeling of being wanted, of being desired. She had felt the feeling before, it wasn't a complete alien sensation. However, something felt different. It could be the feeling of sharing a secret. It could be the shared glances in the hall between classes. Students packed tightly in the corridor, loud and rambunctious. Jennifer and Clara would lock eyes across the hall. Jennifer would blush, Clara would smile. An entire world of chaos filled the space between them, and yet the space between their eyes, the inaudible conversation that rested there was tranquility.

Every time the bell rang, Jennifer would feel the nervousness tie her stomach in a large knot. Goosebumps would rise on her arms, and if a student stopped her, on his way out, to ask a question, she found herself unable to find the right words needed to respond. The entire ritual was juvenile at best. Jennifer was twenty-eight years old and feeling emotions she hadn't had since she was in school herself. She tried to play it cool, she tried to leisurely walk to the door, tried to find reasons to be out in the hall. Her entire demeanor collapsed when she locked eyes with Clara.

A week and a half had passed since the swim meet. Jennifer hadn't come to a decision, but Clara was completely understanding. It didn't even feel like there was any decision to be made. In the forefront of Jennifer's mind she felt she could keep up the façade; stay with Greg while courting Clara. It all seemed so simple, such an easy solution. The only problem was that it was completely selfish and unfair to both. Jennifer knew she needed to make a decision, she needed to decide who she loved.

Clara walked over.

Jennifer watched her the entire time. They never broke eye contact. Jenn felt like maybe she should, maybe still pretend that she wasn't as in to Clara as she was. She didn't, she couldn't, she was addicted.

"Good morning, Miss Fitzsimmons." Clara said, her smile contradicting the formality of the title.

"Miss Oswald." Jennifer said with a tip of her head.

Clara spun and stood next to Jennifer. Her perfume smelled of lavender and cherry blossoms. Instantly Jennifer was transported to a slightly-too-long hug outside her house, to taillights blurring in the distance. To the almost-first-kiss.

"Jenn?" Clara asked.

"What?" Jennifer responded, coming out of her daze. "Sorry, zoned out for a bit."

"You are privy to those lately." Clara observed.

Jennifer blushed. "Just a lot on my mind."

She felt the back of Clara's hand brush up against her own. It was subtle and almost unnoticeable. Anyone passing would think it an accident, but Jennifer knew the words that were unsaid with that slight touch of skin. _I'm here for you_.

"How have classes been?" Jennifer asked Clara.

"Good," Clara said, "same old lessons. I've had trouble focusing to be perfectly honest."

"I know what you mean." Jennifer laughed.

Clara dropped her voice to a whisper, the sound of students in the hall covering her words. She didn't face Jennifer, she said it almost as if she was talking to herself. She looked down. Jennifer heard the words, and knew only she was meant to.

"I think of you," Clara whispered, "running my hand through your curls, the warmth of your breath, the desire to your touch."

Jennifer felt her palms moisten, her cheeks flush. The fact that Clara spoke these words with students all around set Jennifer into an inner fantasy. Her mind raced to the idea of kissing Clara, pressing her against the hallway wall. She risked another touch, tapping Clara's pinky with her own finger, lingering at the touch, the briefest of hand-holds.

The bell rang.

Jennifer nodded goodbye, and slipped back to her classroom. Before she slipped in the door she stole a glance of Clara walking back to her own. Right then, Clara stole her own, catching Jennifer's eyes. She winked.

Jennifer closed the door to her classroom and took a breath.

She cleared her throat. "Open your books to page 233." Jenn said. "We're going to learn about King Louis the sixteenth of France, otherwise known as The Sun King…"

* * *

><p>Off-period, a small period of reprieve in the middle of the school day. It was an "Orange Day", and that meant one thing, Jennifer shared an off-period with Clara. The school ran on an alternating class schedule. There were "Orange Days" and "Black Days" each carrying with it a different set of classes. The school used this schedule to give more time for each period. This meant that Jenn only had to teach four classes a day instead of seven. She had a small thirty minute off-period during home-room on "Black Days" but on "Orange Days" she had a ninety-minute off-period. It just so happened that Clara's off period was the same time.<p>

Often they would grade papers together in the same room. It was usually silent, both very professional and focused on their work. Words didn't need to be said, the fact that they were simply breathing the same air was enough. This tradition began the second week of school. What used to be ninety minutes of grading mixed with a small smattering of stories now consisted of looks, smiles, random compliments. Jennifer looked forward to this off-period before, because it meant a time to relax with a friend. Now, however, these ninety minutes were torture, testing the ability for both of them to stay professional. They each would grade, pretending that they didn't want to slam the door and claw at each other.

They hadn't been together since the motel. It seemed the right decision. Jennifer needed to make up her mind about her future, and she didn't need sex getting in the way. That didn't mean it was easy. Every smile Clara sent her, every scrunch of her nose, each laugh, or sassy head-bob became harder and harder to resist.

Jennifer imagined facing Clara, walking towards her slowly, the petite English teacher sent to her heels, backing up to keep professionalism. Jennifer imagined the wall stopping her retreat. She imagined interlocking fingers, pinning Clara's wrist against the wall. She imagined closing in for a kiss, and pulling away slightly inches away from Clara's lips. She imagined watching Clara squirm against the wall, begging for Jennifer's touch. She imagined not caring where they were, not caring how bad of an idea it was.

Jennifer let out a shaky breath.

"Are you ok, Fitzy?" Clara asked from the other side of the desk.

Jennifer came back from her fantasy. "Sorry," Jennifer said clearing her throat.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Clara asked, "You've been zoning out a lot, and clearing your throat."

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "it's nothing. I have been feeling under the weather lately and just find myself lost in thought." It wasn't exactly a lie. Jennifer had come down with something. It hadn't been too bad, simply a cold to coincide with the weather change. It hadn't gotten nasty yet, just lethargic movement and a constant need to clear her throat.

Clara placed a hand on top of Jenn's own. "I'm sorry about that," she said, "do you want me to run and get you juice or something?"

Jennifer smiled. "That's very thoughtful," she said, flipping her hand over and tracing the underside of Clara's fingers, "but I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Clara asked, "I can be a pretty good nurse. You'd definitely want me by your bedside."

Jennifer laughed. "Oh, would I?"

"I went pre-olympic in pillow fluffing." Clara said. "I mean, I know it isn't swimming or anything, but the competition out there is pretty rough and I won the biggest trophy."

"Medal." Jennifer corrected.

"What?" Clara asked.

"You win medals, not trophies." Jennifer laughed.

"Maybe in swimming, but in pre-olympic pillow fluffing we get trophies, big trophies. I'd show you, but mines in a museum in England."

"A museum?" Jennifer asked.

"Oh, yes," Clara said, "It even did a tour of Buckingham Palace. I'm a minor celebrity in England. Why else do you think I came to small-town Iowa? I needed to avoid the paparazzi."

Jennifer was bent over her desk in laughter.

"Stop that laughing," Clara demanded, "pillow fluffing is no joke!"

"Right, right," Jennifer said, "I just never knew I was in the presence of a minor celebrity."

Clara smiled. "It's my down-to-earth humble personality. No one expects it."

Jennifer guffawed, "Humble? I don't think humble is a word I would use to describe Clara Oswald."

Clara mocked offense. "How dare you say that to me, we're over, Fitzy, done, finished." Clara looked away in fake-disgust.

"Oh, you're pouting now?" Jennifer teased.

"Yes!" Clara said.

"Aw, you're so cute when you pout."

"Because I'm really good at it!" Clara said.

Jennifer giggled. "Uhg," Jennifer exclaimed, "Why am I so into you?"

Clara dropped the facade and turned to face Jennifer, she looked at Jenn with longing eyes, as if she had been waiting for those words.

"Yeah," Jennifer said to Clara's stare, "I'm into you. It's official, I'm smitten."

"Smitten?" Clara asked.

"Did I just say, 'smitten?' " Jennifer asked, "You're rubbing off on me. I promise it will never happen again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Clara said.

"It is." Jennifer replied."The world can barely handle one of you, let alone another."

"Oh, the world could handle many of me, take my word on that." Clara laughed.

"I think just the two of us are fine." Jennifer said.

Clara laughed, before a sly grin creeped up her face. "Just the two of us, now that's a thought" she said.

Jennifer blushed, checking to make sure the room was empty.

"Is it?' Jennifer asked, playing with Clara's hand. "Tell me more."

"You and I, alone in a room, no fear of someone walking in or bothering us."-Clara stared into Jennifer's eyes. Jennifer watched intently as every word formed on her lips.-"Close enough to hear our breaths. The combined warmth of our skin raising the temperature between us. Pressing closer and closer."

Jennifer sat in silence, lost in Clara's words. She crossed her legs, and inhaled.

"...Clara..." Jennifer whispered.

"What?" Clara asked. "Oh, oh yes, sorry about that, many apologies. I got a little wrapped up in the moment for a second."

Jennifer let herself stay wrapped in the moment. All of the problems, all of the worries, all of the fears drifting away. Jennifer felt feelings deep inside she had never felt with Greg. She felt desire, but more than that she felt confidence in herself. Every person Jennifer had been with had been there for her, but no one made her yearn so much to be with them. No one cut so deeply into Jennifer's innate ability to over-analyze every aspect of a relationship. Jennifer was not a spontaneous woman, and yet Clara Oswald made her forget the "Pro and Con" lists, made her forget the potential judgement, made her forget the messy situation of them working together.

Clara made Jennifer feel like a better person.

She saw it now. She saw the gravity that Clara brought. It wasn't just the fun times they had, or how they got along. Clara was exactly what Jennifer needed, she was someone who didn't ask Jennifer to change, but yet took Jenn's strengths and built upon them. She didn't cut into the person Jennifer was, she helped bring out the most honest, and authentic version of Jennifer.

It was so clear, it had always been clear, but Jennifer hadn't wanted to face the reality. It was time to make a change, it was time to accept what she was feeling.

It was time to let herself fall in love.

"Clara." Jennifer said in a serious and straight-forward tone.

Clara looked up, concern on her face. "Is everything ok?" She asked.

Jennifer knew she needed to open up. "I've come to a decision." Jennifer said, lacking in the confidence she wanted to portray.

"What do you mean?" Clara asked. "Oh, you mean..."

"Yeah,"-Jennifer blushed-"I know off-period isn't the best time, but it just came to me, and I dunno I need to talk it out."

Clara placed her pen on the table. She sat up and gave all attention to Jenn.

Jennifer smiled, she finally knew who she wanted to love, and it was Clara Oswald. She felt she needed to say it in some grand announcement, make a show of it.

She cleared her throat and took a deep, slow breath, the air itching at her throat and filling her lungs.

"I choose..." The anticipation built deep within Jennifer's chest. She felt the burning, an almost spike of pain, of anxiety. She felt her throat tighten and dry, she felt it itch. She had never had anxiety overcome her like this.

"I choose, you" Jennifer forced out, and then smiled.

Clara squealed, and Jennifer swore she saw a tear build in the corner of her eye. The moment should have been perfect. It should have been everything, but Jennifer coughed.

It wasn't a soft cough, it was abrupt. All the feelings within her chest that she took as anxiety were symptoms, warning signs of the cough to come. It was a succession of coughs, deep and guttural, forcing the air from the farthest reaches of Jennifer's lungs.

As soon as it began, it was over.

Jennifer pulled away her hand, and there, in her palm, was a small amount of blood.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

Clara Oswald blew into the world on a leaf, and blew into Iowa in a blue box.

It was an accident, they weren't supposed to be there. Clara had gone with the Doctor to stop some new race of smiley aliens from destroying earth in ancient Rome. She'd been quite proud of herself, actually. The entire adventure had been a success and Clara, a large part of it. The Doctor set the TARDIS back to home, and in a rush, pushed Clara out, and set off again.

Except they hadn't gone back home.

It wasn't even the right year. The year was 2012, and Clara found out she had been trapped in Northern Iowa, over in The States. To top it off, the Doctor had been in such a rush, he zipped out before Clara realized what had happened. It was horribly unfortunate. As the days wore on, Clara found the small town to be quite quaint. She didn't have to worry about any of the drama in her life, she didn't have to make a decision on Danny, no one needed her. For the first time Clara found herself on an unexpected vacation. She knew the Doctor would eventually return, and when he did she could just pop back into her life, with barely minutes escaping. But now, in Iowa, she had time to relax.

It wasn't hard for Clara to get work. It began with a small waitstaff job at a local Deli, which gave her enough to rent an apartment. By this point, three months had passed without any sight of The Doctor. Clara was worried, but worst-case scenario involved waiting until she caught up with her timeline and buying a ticket back to London. Two years seemed like an awfully long time to wait, but Clara was always up for an adventure.

Soon enough, Clara was able to collect her identity, and being very careful not to notify her other self which taught thousands of miles away, Clara used her past teaching to secure a visa and get a job at the local high school.

Clara had missed teaching in the year she had been stuck in Iowa, and the smell of a classroom energized her senses. She quickly set about decorating her room, remembering old student she had in classes, who she just-now may be meeting a few thousand miles away. The entire paradox fascinated Clara. There were two versions of her walking around, teaching, doing Clara-esque things. The concept wasn't too unsettling, after all, Clara was the Impossible Girl, she had split into a thousand pieces, each one scattered along a timeline. At any moment multiple doppelgangers existed. Clara thought about that. How strange and unique that concept was, to know there were genetically identical versions of yourself in some other location on the globe.

Then she saw her.

Not herself, but someone else, someone that shut down Clara's thinking process. She pulled open the side door to the school and as she walked in, the sun created a gold lining to her silhouette. The entire scene felt memorizing, like one of those artistic films Clara would watch on Cork Street. Clara tried not to stare, knowing it was rude, but the way her dark curls fell across her shoulders, the way she seemed to walk around with a smile, despite there being nothing particular to smile at, the way she looked like a mess carrying three bags into the building.

Clara was crushing hard.

Clara turned away. She tried to think of Danny, tried to get her mind off of this teacher she hadn't even said a word to yet. Then it hit her. She hadn't met Danny yet. Technically they weren't dating yet, she was in a different country, months before she would meet Mr. Pink.

Spinning on her heel she let a smile cascade her face and walked towards the stranger.

"Would you like some help?" Clara asked.

"Yes!" The woman in curls said.

Clara grabbed a bag and threw it over her shoulder.

"I'm Clara, Clara Oswald." She introduced herself.

"Jennifer Fitzsimmons." the woman said.

Clara marked the name into her memory.

"You're British?" Jennifer asked.

"Very observant," Clara laughed, "Lets hope the accent gave it away and not one of the less flattering British stereotypes."

Jennifer laughed. "No, definitely the accent." Jennifer said. "Sheldon isn't known for cultural diversity, so you are pretty noticeable."

"I try to be noticeable even without the accent." Clara winked, shocked at her own flirtation.

Jennifer laughed again. "So what brings you to Sheldon?"

"Would you believe blue boxes and slightly senile old men?" Clara said.

"Well, Sheldon is definitely not short on slightly senile old men, so I'll buy that excuse."

They came to a class room and Jennifer set her bag down and looked for her keys. She checked all of her pockets before a look of defeat stretched across her face.

"Shit," Jennifer said, "I lost my keys. I swear this never happens."

Clara smiled. "Well, I can't complain." Clara said. "It just means we have more time to become friends."

Jennifer stopped and for the first time looked into Clara's eyes. Truly looked. Clara felt a chill ride up her back. She looked up at the slightly taller woman.

"I would love that." Jennifer said.

"Well, it's settled then," Clara said, "we're going to be best friends, Jennifer Fitzsimmons."

Jennifer smiled, "You don't have to call me by my full name, it's a little bit of a mouthful."

"I know, I just haven't assigned a nickname to you yet." Clara said.

"You could always call me Jenn, it's what a lot of my friends call me." Jennifer said.

"I could, but then I would just be like a lot of your friends, and I think I already announced we'll be best friends, so I have to be different." Clara said.

Jennifer leaned against the locked classroom door. She had a smile that broke right through Clara's defenses and seemed to smile at the real her, the one beneath the overly-confident facade she puts forth.

"So, what department are you in?" Jennifer asked.

"Department?' Clara asked confused, "Oh, yes, what am I teaching? My subject is English, and it looks like you are a history teacher."

"Yes, I just love the stories of the past," Jennifer said. "We have thousands of years of rich stories of actual people's lives and we often ignore them, but they were real people. They lived and they made an impact. They made enough of an impact to be placed in a book. Maybe it's my small-town up-bringing but that is inspiring. Doing something so magnificent that books are written about you. The worst thing I can think of is simply being a nothing story, simply being forgotten."

Clara listened intently, soaking up Jennifer's passion. With each flowery word, with each bit of imagery that Jennifer laid out, Clara became more and more infatuated with her. She was passionate, and kind, and adorable. Clara sighed audibly. It was unintentional, but it happened none-the-less. Clara would be upset with her lack of tact, but she was too wrapped up to give a damn.

"I'm surprised you haven't shut me up." Jennifer said. "Greg never lets me rant this long about history."

"Greg?" Clara asked, a warm sinking feeling appearing in her stomach.

"My boyfriend." Jennifer said, confirming Clara's fear.

"Oh, yes, of course." Clara said, mentally reprimanding herself for thinking diverse sexuality might be common in small-town America.

"It's good to have someone to talk to about my passions." Jennifer said with a smile.

Clara knew she had become invested too quickly. However, she really did enjoy talking to Jennifer and she did have a boyfriend back in England. Atleast she would, at some point in the future. The entire rationalization gave her a headache. Either way, Clara was happy to have a friend.

The caretaker appeared from around the corner, and for a second Clara expected to recognize him. She didn't, however, and he unlocked Jennifer's classroom door.

"Finally." Jennifer said as the door opened. "I have so much to do today. Thankfully school doesn't start for another week."

"Well I'll let you get to that. It was nice meeting you, Fitzy." Clara said.

"Fitzy?' Jennifer asked.

"I'm trying it on for size," Clara said, "we'll see if it sticks."

Jennifer smiled. "It was nice meeting you, Clara, don't be a stranger."

Clara walked away. _Oh, I won't be a stranger,_ she thought, _You'll be seeing a lot of me, Jennifer Fitzsimmons._

* * *

><p>The Doctor eventually returned, stumbling into the school one afternoon in mid-September, haggard and lost. Clara had to direct him to a closet.<p>

"What are you doing?" Clara demanded.

"I've come to rescue you!" The Doctor declared. "What are you doing working at a new school?"

"I've been here sixteen months, did you think I would just sit cutely on a rock and wait for you?" Clara said.

The Doctor stood silently.

"You did!" Clara said, baffled.

"Sixteen months? I just dropped you off thirty minutes ago." The Doctor said.

Clara rubbed her temple. "You're not going to make me explain time travel to you, are you?"

"No, Clara, I don't think I will." The Doctor said. "Well, let's go, come on, back in with you." The Doctor pointed towards where the TARDIS had been stashed.

"I am not a little puppy, you know." Clara said. "If you could kindly stop shooing me into strange boxes, that would be fantastic!"

The Doctor looked towards her, dumbfounded. "I'd think after sixteen months, you'd be more excited about going home."

Home. The word nuzzled into Clara's mind. Conflicting thoughts of dinner with her parents in a London flat, replaced with a nice dinner date with Danny, before thoughts of laughing with Jennifer. Clara looked around her, trying to make a choice between two invisible people, two different versions of herself.

"We're only about a year from when we originally left?" Clara asked.

"I don't know." The doctor replied. "It looks like the same time to me"

"Except it's not. Remember," -Clara pointed to herself- "sixteen months" -Clara switched her hand to point at The Doctor- "thirty minutes."

"Yes, I told you, I understand time travel, Clara, I've been doing it much longer than you." The Doctor said.

"Yes, and yet you still left a rather cute companion of yours stranded in a foreign country for sixteen months, so how much do you really understand time travel?" Clara asked.

"Ah," The Doctor said, "it's going to be one of those conversations."

"How exactly did you expect this conversation to go?"

"Not like this." The Doctor said.

"Well, it's exactly like this." Clara said as she put her hands on her hip.

"Can we not carry on this conversation in the TARDIS?" The Doctor asked.

Clara stood still, quiet. If she got on the TARDIS, she would be leaving. The realization suddenly hit her. She had grown attached to Sheldon High School, to her students, to Jennifer.

"What if I stayed here?" Clara asked.

"Here?" The Doctor asked. "The place you just verbally harassed me about leaving you in?"

"Yes, that exact place." Clara said.

"For how long?"

"Maybe allow time to catch up with itself. I don't know. I am enjoying the time away, time to do some self-evaluation, and in less than a year I'll be caught up with my timeline and can simply travel back to London like nothing happened right?" Clara said.

"Theoretically you are correct, but we could also jump in the TARDIS and be there in a few minutes." The Doctor said.

"How about you come back here on Wednesdays, and I'll still go on your adventures." Clara said.

"What's gotten into you, that seems like a silly proposition." The Doctor said.

"It is a silly proposition, but one I like. Let's just say I have a new hobby." Clara said.

Clara seemed to have sated The Doctor's curiosity. He left on his way, and Clara went back to teaching the students of Sheldon High School. Everything seemed simple, and relaxed, until one day when Clara attended a swim meet, and found her life much more complicated. In a good way.

* * *

><p>Two teachers sat together in a classroom. It was off-period and they were grading papers while sharing conversation. Clara was pretending to be professional, but taking every chance she could to flirt with Jennifer.<p>

"Clara." Jennifer said in a serious and straight-forward tone.

Clara looked up, concerned at the sudden seriousness in Jennifer's tone. "Is everything ok?" She asked.

Jennifer seemed to be contemplative. "I've come to a decision." Jennifer said.

"What do you mean?" Clara asked. She raced through her mind the possibilities that Jennifer might be deciding. The realization of what she meant hit Clara. It was a decision between her and Greg. It was a decision on if Clara had a place in her life. It was a decision on if Clara had chosen to stay in Sheldon in vain.

"Oh, you mean..."

"Yeah,"-Jennifer blushed-"I know off-period isn't the best time, but it just came to me, and I dunno I need to talk it out."

Clara placed her pen on the table. She sat up and gave all attention to Jenn.

Jennifer smiled. Clara loved the way she smiled. It was genuine, not forced at all. She smiled in a way that brightened a room, but more than that, she smiled in a way that seemed to only be for her. Clara honestly felt like Jennifer had one smile that she only gave to Clara, a smile she tucked way, a gift.

Jennifer took a deep breath. Clara felt nervous, leaning in as if to receive the news a microsecond sooner.

"I choose..." Jennifer paused. Clara's heart beat hard against her ribs, sending a pulsating thump to her ears.

"I choose, you" Jennifer said.

Clara squealed, all of the built up anxiety raging out and a scream. She suddenly felt a wave of emotion, a tear in her eye. She ran forward to hug Jennifer.

Then Jennifer coughed. It was abrupt. It was a succession of coughs, deep and guttural, Clara stood shocked and worried.

Jennifer pulled away her hand, and there, in her palm, was a small amount of blood.

"Jennifer are you ok?" Clara asked.

"I think so." Jennifer said. "I don't know, I've never had a cough that bad. I wonder if this cold turned to walking pneumonia or something."

Clara could tell Jennifer was more worried than she was putting on. Clara was scared herself. "Do we need to get the nurse in here, or go see a doctor?"

"No," Jennifer said, "I'll set an appointment for this week. I didn't expect it to get this bad."

Clara walked forward. "Well, it isn't all bad news." Clara said. "If you need to put an emergency contact down, you can always put your girlfriend's name down."

Jennifer looked up, taken out of the shock of the cough, of the blood. "Girlfriend?" Jennifer asked.

"I was thinking the name fit." Clara said.

Jennifer smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Clara Oswald, my girlfriend." She said aloud.

"Oh, I really like that, say that again." Clara said.

"Shut up and kiss me." Jennifer demanded.

"Here?" Clara asked, incredulous.

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "I like to live dangerously"


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

The rhythmic pulsing of the windshield wipers competed for attention with the _ting, ting, _of the turn signal. Thick raindrops pelted Clara's car, blinding the view. A fog settled across the rainy street as Clara turned off of Washington Avenue on to Eleventh street. As the car turned, water splashed onto the sidewalk.

It had been a week since the incident. Clara remembered the coughing spasm, but more importantly, remembered the words that danced from Jennifer's lips to her ears. She chose Clara. It seemed inconsequential. The words weren't a deceleration of love, they didn't mean anything on their own, they were simply an affirmation of preference. However, to Clara they said more than that. To Clara, the words meant she was important, she was cared for, she was the one. The first day Clara met Jennifer she felt that deep warmth in her chest, that tingling on the back of her neck, right where the shoulders met. Clara never expected the feeling to be reciprocated. It's funny, Clara noted, the times you think a relationship is the least-likely to happen, is when it blossoms uncontrollably.

They had been with one another.

It had only been that one time, but Clara thought about it daily. She thought about how right everything was, she thought about the stories, the intimacy, the kisses. It was a moment in Clara's life where she never felt more sure of who she was. Clara had known she was bisexual since she was fourteen. It had been early, but in much-the-same-way that Clara looked at Jenn with a sense of longing, she found herself wrapped up in her then-best-friend.

That feeling wasn't reciprocated.

It had been hard on a young Clara. She had opened up, become completely vulnerable, and the feeling of being so completely and utterly rejected, crushed her. Yet, out of the ashes rises the phoenix. Clara made a decision in that moment. She decided that no one save herself could validate Clara. No one could decide her worth. It was in that moment, the darkest moment, that Clara became confident with who she was. In the crushing blow of rejection, Clara Oswald became a diamond.

Clara pulled the car into a spot outside Jennifer's apartment, the rain now pelting with a furious enthusiasm. Clara took a deep breath and opened the door to the car.

Rain drops hit her face, kissing her cheeks, her lips. The rain was neither hard, nor soft but almost perfect. She quickly slammed the car-door and ran across the pavement. She felt the raindrops soaking her, the water spreading to the tips of her fingers, to her toes, and collecting on her lips. Her left foot hit a rather large puddle, splashing water all over her short-boots and soaking the leggings all the way to her knee. She huffed to herself in anger as she bolted up to Jenn's door. There wasn't much of an awning and Clara had to press against the front door to stay out of the downpour. Strands of her hair stuck wet to her face. She knocked.

Clara watched the water spill out of the drainage gutter in waves, spilling from the mouth out onto the pavement. She huffed air up onto her forehead in hopes of blowing her now soaking bangs out of her face. The door opened.

"Finally." Clara said, slipping in the door.

"I told you that you didn't need to fight the rain," Jennifer said, "really, I'm fine."

"You," Clara said pointing to Jennifer as she brushed back the wet hair that plastered to her face. "will give me none of that. I am soaking wet, and have one ruined shoe, but, I haven't seen you in almost a week and I will not have you turning me away now."

Jennifer smiled. "Let me get you a towel." She said.

"Thank you." Clara said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok," Jennifer yelled from the other room, "The doctors still don't know what's wrong."

Jennifer entered the room and handed Clara a towel. "Greg has some special doctor he wants me to see."

Clara cringed at the name. She tried to be understanding, Jennifer was going through a lot of changes and right when she chose Clara, she came down with this mystery ailment. Clara was patient, but part of her wished to have Jennifer to herself.

"Good, I need a healthy girlfriend." Clara said with a wink.

For the first time, Clara looked at the woman. She stood in a shirt and short athletic shorts. Her shirt read "Sheldon High School Class of 2004." Clara scanned down to the short athletic shorts she wore, and her long, toned legs. She pressed in.

"I missed you." Clara whispered.

Jennifer didn't step back. "I missed you too." She said. "I hate when you're at school. I hate not stopping by your room."

"I hate looking at the empty door hoping you'll stop by." Clara said.

Jennifer stepped closer. "I hate not being able to kiss you."

Clara pressed her face inches away from Jenn's and smirked. "Yeah?" She said. "So why haven't you?"

Jennifer blushed. "I-"

Clara kissed her. She had hoped to send Jennifer on her heels; it allowed her to attack unexpectedly. The taste of her lips sent a bolt of electricity through her body. The last few days absence came out in a rush. She pressed against Jennifer feeling her lips on her own. Her hand wrapped around to Jennifer's back as she slowly pressed against her. Jennifer held Clara's wet hair in her hands, kissing her deeply before pulling away with a laugh.

"I'm sorry, but we have got to get you a new change of clothes." Jennifer said.

Clara pouted. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Jennifer cleared her throat. "I'm sure I have something you can wear."

They split and walked into the house. Jennifer went into the bedroom and Clara stopped by the kitchen. She opened the door to the fridge and saw a six-pack of Magner's Irish Cider. Smiling to herself she popped the cap off one and walked into the living room.

"How's the team?" Jennifer asked.

"I talked to Halley yesterday," Clara yelled into the bedroom, "she said they miss you. Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you that the freshman you talk about beat her personal record this week."

Jennifer walked into the room with a hand-full of clothes. "Rebecca?" Jennifer asked. "She has so much potential. I look at her and I sometimes see a young me. I can't play favorites but that girl has a bright future ahead of her."

Clara took the clothes from Jennifer. "She looked really good at that meet." Clara said, sliding her wet shirt off, and replacing it with the warm t-shirt Jennifer handed her.

Clara turned and caught Jennifer watching her. "Now, Fitzy, you better watch yourself or people might think you're in to me." Clara said.

Jennifer blushed. She turned away out of courtesy. Clara smiled at Jenn's modesty, and continued to change. "You seem to be feeling better." Clara said as she finished putting the pajama pants on that Jennifer gave her.

"It comes in waves." Jennifer said. "Sometimes it's just an itchy throat, other times it's a pretty bad cough. I hate it. I just want to go back to work."

Clara smiled. "Well, sit down and put on a movie. I'll order us some pizza and we can have a lazy-date today."

"A lazy-date?" Jennifer asked.

"Well, it isn't an ideal choice for our first date, but if I can't get you out of the house for a date, I'm bringing the date here." Clara said.

Jennifer smiled. "I couldn't imagine a better date." She said.

"Well, then you need a better imagination," Clara said, "but this will do."

Jennifer coughed. "Go ahead and order the pizza, I'll be right back."

Clara walked to the phone. As she picked it up to dial she heard Jennifer coughing violently in the other room. She paused before collecting herself to order the Pizza. She hated that Jennifer wasn't feeling well and the fact that the doctors couldn't figure out what was going on didn't sit well with Clara.

Eventually, Jennifer came out and brought with her the comforter from the bed. Clara smiled and sitting on the couch curled under the blanket with her. The over-sized blanket dwarfed them. It was large and fluffy, probably one of the more expensive items in the apartment. Clara could respect someone who spent the bulk of their money on bedding. Once under the comforter, Clara realized just how cold she had been. She quickly inched closer to Jennifer, turning towards her and sliding her toes under Jennifer's butt. She began to run her fingers through Jennifer's hair. Jennifer closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch. Clara's fingers slid through the dark curls, slowly, taking in the texture of each pass-through. She looked at Jennifer's closed eyes. She looked at her lips. Slowly, while still running her fingers through Jenn's hair, Clara leaned in and kissed her.

"Greg wants me to fly to Toronto." Jennifer said.

Clara stopped. "Why?"

Jennifer sat up. "He has an old friend, or some family member that works in a lab up there that thinks they may know what's going on? Anyway, they want to do some experimental treatment, and have me do these video diaries."

Clara sat still. "So you'd go, with Greg."

"I told him."

Clara slid away from Jennifer. "Yeah, what did you tell him?"

"Clara." Jennifer said.

"Why can't they do the treatment here?"

Jennifer lightly slid a finger down Clara's back. The touch both comforting and annoying Clara.

"Clara, I told him-"

"Told him what? Told him you'd go? What about me? When do I get upgraded to emergency contact?" Clara snapped back.

"No, Clara, you don't understand."

"I understand perfectly." Clara said. "Greg feels you slipping and so he wants to take you away from here, away from Iowa. Can't you see, Jenn? It's just a ploy."

"Clara, listen to me." Jenn said.

"I know, I know, Jenn, you're sick, and I want to help, I want to find you help, I just don't know why it has to be a couple thousand kilometers away." Clara said.

"I don't know, It is something to do with the medical laws there. I'm not sure, but, Clara, I told him-"

"And how long will you be gone?" Clara cut her off.

"I don't know, it could be a few weeks or a few months." Jennifer said.

Clara thought to herself. There was no way she could go with Jennifer. She loved her students. Plus, she already was in America under-the-radar. Skipping countries was probably a bad idea. A burning in her stomach ripped at her. She took a drink of her cider. Clara was finally happy, she finally had someone she cared about, who seemed to care about her and it was slipping through her fingers. It was still too new. Clara trusted Jennifer, but to leave with her boyfriend to another country. It was too much, how could she compete. She felt tears welling in her eyes.

"Clara, I need to talk to you about what I said to Greg." Jennifer said.

"No, you don't, I get it, I understand why you haven't broken it off, why you've push _us _back. Your health is the priority now. You wouldn't want to cut Greg off when he can find you a doctor that might-"

"Goddammit Clara." Jennifer cut her off. The profanity stopped Clara mid-rant. She turned and faced Jennifer with an apprehensive look of shock on her face.

Jennifer took Clara's hand into her own. "Clara," she said, "I told Greg about us. I told him about what happened, I told him about how him and I weren't working out, how we had been so distant."

"Oh…" Clara said, having trouble finding the right words.

"I told him," Jennifer said, a smile spreading across her face, "I told him that I'm falling in love with you."

Clara was silent.

"But I lied," Jennifer continued, "because I've already fallen in love with you."

The words washed over Clara, drenching her in their potency. Clara felt all of her emotions disappear. She no longer felt jealousy, she no longer felt anger, she no longer felt anything. She looked into the eyes, the eyes she had stared at on this very couch a month before, the eyes that first caught her attention two months before that, the eyes she looked in the night they spent together. Clara felt cleansed.

"I love you, Fitzy." She said. The words formed, autonomously. Clara had no control over them. They weren't words of desperation, or words of manipulation, they were words that Clara didn't realize she was saying until she had finished them. She knew they were true right as they left her mouth. Jennifer was the reason Clara went to work each day, she was the reason that being stranded in Iowa had been bearable, she was the reason Clara hadn't gone back to England, back to Danny, back to The Doctor. Every once-in-awhile someone comes along that makes every other worry in life seem inconsequential. For Clara Oswald, that person was a teacher in a small Iowa town of barely five-thousand people, that person was Jennifer Fitzsimmons.

They kissed.

It wasn't a passionate kiss of uncontrolled desire, but neither was it one of greeting. It was a slow kiss, one of anticipation, where the pressure is neither hard, nor soft but just perfect. Clara tasted Jennifer's lips, and felt the warmth. She felt her heart beat, not in her chest, but a pulse that went to her fingertips, to her toes, and tried fervently to exit through her lips.

She pulled away. Jennifer had tears in her eyes. Clara noticed her own had welled up.

"You get better." Clara said. "Because I have plans for us."

Jennifer laughed. "Oh, plans? I like plans." She said.

The moment was ruined by a knock on the door. The pizza had arrived. Clara stood and paid for it. Then began a long night filled with pizza, jokes and three movies that both of them watched, and yet didn't watch at all. When the time came for Clara to leave, Jennifer walked her to the door, but the kiss goodnight lead back to Jennifer's bedroom, and when Clara awoke the next morning, it was Jennifer who had gone out for the coffee and bagels.

Clara smiled, before grabbing Jennifer's pillow, marked in her perfume, and falling back asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

The coffee and bagels slowly became less and less frequent.

Clara would come over and keep Jennifer company. She would order pizza, or Chinese food, and they would talk for hours. Sometimes Clara found herself dozing off at school from the late night before. She was exhausted, but her emotions drove her forward. Her love was a never ending source of energy. Clara had never been this excited by life. Yet, in the background of it all, were the coughing fits, the red, speckled marks across Jennifer's face where blood vessels ruptured from the sheer force of the hacks. Jenn would return from the bathroom with salty tears, and bloodshot eyes.

Clara found her love growing, and the love of her life dying.

As the next few weeks lead on, Clara spent more and more time at Jennifer's apartment. The laughter slowly died out, and no one went out to grab breakfast. Clara turned down the Doctor's offers for adventure, choosing to lay beside Jennifer as she slept instead.

Finally, Jennifer decided to take Greg up on his offer. Clara had never met Greg. She had seen him on occasion at the school before the night in the motel, she had heard stories, she knew he wasn't a bad person. When he finally walked in the door, she made herself look him in the eyes. She was unapologetic, but not defensive. She wanted him to know that she cared for Jennifer, and she could tell he did too. She wanted him to understand she was not ashamed of the way Jennifer wrapped herself around Clara's heart.

Greg looked back, right into her eyes. There was a moment of tension, and then a softness. It never was said, it wasn't vocalized, but it was understood. These two people, two very different people, wanted the best for Jennifer. They wanted to protect and love her. In that moment, Clara wondered if she could have the strength Greg had, strength to let go. Clara wasn't sure, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to let go like Greg had. She would fight, she wouldn't give up.

"Clara." He said with a tip of his head.

"Hello, Greg." Clara said, trying to sound friendly.

Jennifer noticed the awkward silence. "I could use some help, with the bags, there are quite a few." Jennifer said. "I'm still not sure how long I'll be staying in Toronto."

"Yeah," Greg said, "I can help."

He walked away and without any provocation, Jennifer leaned in and kissed Clara on the cheek. The kiss was small, and yet it was enough to wash away the nervousness that Clara had been fighting.

The trunk shut, Jennifer's bags within, and Clara stood beside her, fighting back the fear, the tears, the uncertainty.

"I'll call you as soon as the plane lands." Jennifer said.

"You better." Clara said, tears building in her eyes. "You think of me when you land, and I'll think of you. You go, and you get better. I'll be up there as soon as I can."

Jennifer tucked a strand of hair behind Clara's ear. She leaned in and kissed her lips. As she parted, Clara wiped a single tear from her eye.

The car drove off. Clara stood outside Jennifer's apartment, watching as the taillights blurred in the distance. She thought about going home, to her own bed which had been empty the last week. In the end Clara turned and walked into the apartment. The last few weeks had been hard, and in that sorrow, the place that felt most like home was Jennifer's flat.

* * *

><p>The next two weeks were an eternity of isolation. Clara felt entirely alone, and yet wished to remove herself from all social situations. She stopped by her apartment to pick up a few things, and moved herself into Jennifer's place. It felt deep-down like a breach of trust, but Clara tried only once to sleep back at her place. The event lead to a night full of tears and staring at a dark spot on the ceiling for hours. It might not have been welcome, but Clara needed to be close to Jenn, through her possessions, in order to feel connected in some way, to be able to rest, to sleep.<p>

They talked on the phone constantly. Jennifer said she felt better, only to call crying the next day. The hills lead to rare laughter and long conversations pouring into the dark hours of the night, the international phone-bill barely a concern. The valleys became dark, emotional, tear-filled confessions of emptiness. Clara had spent time away from past loves, but never had the divide been so clear, so damaging as the chasm she felt. Each time a student asked her about news on Jennifer, she fought the urge to let her knees give out and fall to the floor.

The students seemed to finally understand. To Clara's surprise the support was immense. It was Rebecca who's inquiries were the hardest to hear. The young swimmer lingered after class one day.

"Is she going to be ok?" Rebecca had asked.

"I don't know," Clara said, attempting strength, "but she's with the best doctors now."

When Rebecca's hand reached out and touched Clara's shoulder, she almost pulled back in fear of letting herself give into the emotion. The fear collapsed when Rebecca spoke.

"She's my favorite teacher, and I kind of see her as a mentor." Rebecca said, "I know it's not like a spoken thing, but, well, she's lucky to have you by her side."

Clara felt the tears welling in her eyes, "Oh, well I very much appreciate that, its what friends are for."

Rebecca smiled. "It's what _girlfriends_ are for."

The word slammed into Clara's heart. There was no secret motive, there was no thirst for gossip in her voice, there was young, innocent acceptance, there was admiration.

"Thank you, Rebecca," Clara said, "you hold a special place in her heart."

"I know," Rebecca said, "I'm her favorite."

Clara stared dumbfounded at the blunt language of the fifteen-year-old. For the first time in weeks, Clara laughed. "Yes, yes you are."

The girl spun around, conversation over, and headed to the door. As she got to the frame she turned around.

"Thank you, Miss Oswald." She said.

"Thank you?" Clara asked, "What for?"

"For letting me know that somewhere, out there, there is a girl for me too."

* * *

><p>The whine of the TARDIS slowed to a halt, and Clara was first out the door. The Doctor had not reacted well to Clara's demands that he act as her personal chauffeur from Iowa to Toronto. He even tried to drag her into an adventure. She sat in the TARDIS angrily denying the Dinosaurs walking just outside the door. She refused to play along. Finally, the Doctor set the TARDIS for her intended destination, grumbling the entire time. Now Clara stood outside the building, marked in modern geometric architecture. Jennifer just inside.<p>

The elevator wasn't moving fast enough. Clara waited outside as the levels dinged in an annoying, high-pitched beep that dug into the back of her mind.

"I hate lifts!" Clara declared to the stranger next to her before bolting into the door marked with the word "stairs."

Clara felt like a child as she took the steps, two at a time, her small legs stretching out in long strides, her thighs burning as she skipped steps and propelled herself up the three floors. She nearly tripped an older thin man coming down the stairs. He had an arm-full of folders that he had to hold close to his chest as she bumped into him. She whipped around each turn, bounding up each step. The door of the third floor burst open and she ran down the hall. The room numbers passed her, evens on the right, the odds to the left. She looked for her goal, for her salvation. The room ahead held the number. She nearly slid past it as she tried to stop, she burst into the room in a fit of laughter.

The laughter stopped.

Jennifer turned toward her, dark curls missing, perfect smile gone, completely and utterly defeated.

"Oh, Fitzy." Clara said as she rushed to the bed and grabbed the woman she loved in her arms, not letting go. Where her face would be buried in long locks, there was emptiness. Where she would smell the jasmine scents of Jenn's perfume, there was only the sterile medical fragrance of the room. Where there was hair, the was none.

"I'm sorry about the curls." Jennifer said through broken sobs, "I know you loved them."

"No, no," Clara insisted, "I love you, I only loved them because they were an extension of you."

She pulled back, looking in the eyes of someone she had trouble recognizing. It was not the loss of her hair, it wasn't even the sickly hue to her skin. It was the missing spark, the missing fire within her that Clara had trouble finding. She searched her eyes.

"I love you." Clara said. "You could turn into a walrus and I'd still love you."

Jennifer risked a smile.

There. It was only for a second, only a brief smile, but it was there. Jennifer smiled and Clara saw a brief glimpse of her spark. It gave Clara hope, there was still a chance. After all, she had been known to do the impossible before.

* * *

><p>Clara shot up in her seat. She looked around the room. The clock read two in the morning. Jennifer lay still on the bed. Her breathing was ragged. She looked so helpless. Clara stood and walked over to the bed. She held Jennifer's hand. The skin was soft, but swollen. She saw the determination of the woman she loved. She knew that this place had not saved her, nor would they save her. Clara wouldn't give up so easily. She would fight.<p>

As she exited the room, she saw the dim hallways stretching down the corridor. She quickly walked to the elevator. She remembered reading which floor the main offices were. She punched in the floor number and nervously watched the doors close in front of her. The numbers began to tick by as the elevator slowly arrived at the intended floor.

Clara exited. The office was silent, almost eerily so. She knew that it was the middle of the night, but such a respected company as this would most likely have someone pulling long hours. She would need to be careful.

As she came to the door she pulled on the handle. It was locked. It was obvious there would be tough security. However, Clara had previously thought of this. Looking around she pulled out a keycard she had lifted off of the older man she had bumped into in the stairwell. She wasn't sure why she had taken the keycard, but something made her feel uneasy towards Dyad. She realized that even had Jennifer been well and happy, Clara would most likely find herself sneaking through the dark hallways in the middle of the night.

She hoped the keycard had access to this part of the building. She pressed it against the card reader and heard a ding, allowing her entrance. She looked around to make sure no one heard it. Clara slipped in the door, closing it lightly behind her before sneaking down the hallway. She looked for the name she had previously read on a file outside Jennifer's door.

Sneaking became increasingly difficult due to the lack of walls. If someone decided to work a late night, Clara would be pressed to find a proper place to hide amongst all of the glass panels.

_How do they work like this?_ Clara though, _the lack of privacy must be unbearable._

Finally, she came to a door that read: "Dr. Aldous Leekie."

Slipping inside, Clara began looking around the room, looking for anything. The entire office was filled with vines and weird science experiments. It looked like a classroom that a science teacher might have if they'd been granted an unlimited budget.

Clara quickly sat in the chair at the desk and opened the computer. The screen came up, but obviously was password-protected. Clara cursed under her breath. She could try and hack it, with the little experience she had, but the fact was, hacking wasn't as easy as it showed in television shows. The hacker didn't mindlessly type until passwords were simply guessed. Even if Clara had the proper skills to break into this laptop, it could take hours. She would need to find what she was looking for another way.

She began pulling out the drawers of the desk, still uncertain what she was looking for. She pulled them open individually, each one a mess of papers and supplies, but none lit with answers. Finally she pulled a larger bottom drawer. The drawer clicked, stubbornly staying shut. Locked.

Clara smiled.

She may not have the hacking skills of some procedural television series, but she did know a bit or two about picking a lock. It seemed a rather strange talent to posses, however Clara delighted in being rather strange. She quickly slipped two pins from her hair, and straightening one out, while keeping the other at a ninety degree angle. She began to jiggle the inside of the lock.

Clara's confidence had been more than her talent, unfortunately. She wanted to slip the pick in place and after a few seconds release the drawer. Realistically, it took the greater amount of forty-five minutes and one broken bobby-pin. When the drawer finally clicked free, Clara was too exhausted to smile.

She closed her eyes as she pulled the drawer out. The anxiety of opening the drawer and finding some prized autographed sports ball, or an RC helicopter seemed annoyingly possible. When Clara opened her eyes, what she saw were files, the first in the stack reading: "Jennifer Fitzsimmons."

Clara grabbed the file and threw it on the desk, flipping through it for an answer. Most of it was filled with science jargon that she didn't understand. There were pictures, and surprisingly a picture of Greg. Curious, she looked into it. The file called him a monitor, and gave him a Dyad ID code.

Clara suspected this wasn't just an experimental pharmaceutical company. Clara flipped through the file multiple times, but without the expertise to understand all of the jargon, she was short on answers. She felt defeated. As she went to return the file she noticed the next on the list: "Alison Hendrix."

_Maybe there have been more patients like Jennifer,_ Clara thought_, maybe they shared something, anything with her that could give me answers._

Opening the next file, Clara stared at the picture. A chill ran up the back of her spine, the small hairs on her neck lifting as a wave of goosebumps cascaded across her shoulders and down her arms. Clara was looking at a picture of Jennifer, albeit without curls, and sporting short bangs. Jennifer had only mentioned a brother, no sisters.

Clara opened the next file, Cosima Niehaus. The picture was the same. Rachel Duncan. Sarah Manning. They were all the same. Each one shared a face with the woman she loved.

Clara re-opened Jennifer's file, and flipped through it. She looked at her name, and under it read the phrase: "Clone #753C32".

Clara fell back into the seat. This was one thing Clara never expected to share in common with Jennifer. There were different versions of both, all living and dying. Each of them was but a piece, a piece in a grander story. Each was but a recipe, each but a genetic code. They were the same basic person, but with different experiences, slightly different personality traits. Clara Oswald had fallen in love with the only person in the world who could ever understand her. Clara Oswald had fallen in love with a clone.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9_**

"You have to." Clara demanded, tears streaming down her cheeks, reflecting the light from inside the TARDIS. "I have never once asked for something personal, something for me. I have run on your little adventures, I have sacrificed for you. I need this for me."

She wanted to be calm. Clara had gone straight to the Doctor when she found out the truth. The truth that Jennifer Fitzsimmons, the woman she loved, was a clone. Now Jenn was dying and for all Clara knew, it could be intended. Spanning time and space, Clara had seen a lot of wonders and atrocities, but the thought of Jennifer being nothing more than an experiment left a metallic, bitter taste in Clara's mouth. She seethed with anger, and ached with heartbreak.

She made herself look him in the eyes. He looked back dumbfounded at her demands. Normally, he would at least hear her out, but when the tears began to stream, and she began to demand, he shut down. This man, this person, had been the most influential being in her life, she had thrown all of her trust in him, and he was turning her away in her time of need.

She didn't want to beg, Clara had always managed to keep herself composed even in the face of overwhelming opposition. Even when defeat seemed certain, with burns in her heart drifting from hot to numbingly cold, Clara vowed not to break.

She was helpless.

There was nothing more frustrating, or uncontrollable. Clara couldn't be the impossible girl, she couldn't stop it all alone. Clara was a creature of control and organized wit. Yet just as her tongue found no snarky remark or joke to lighten the mood, her heart grasped at the nothingness that mocked her inability to take charge.

"I can't, Clara." The Doctor said, "it's a fixed point."

"Yes, you can," Clara bit back, "and you will. We will go get Jennifer, and we will take her far into the future, or we will bring her to some hospital planet and we will fix her. You will help me with this, if you ever cared about me at all, you will do this."

"I did it again," The Doctor said, "I picked another ape."

Clara stepped back hurt, "Excuse me?"

"Everyone wants to use me to fix their problems." He continued. "They want the adventures until they want the power for themselves. The universe is vast, Clara, I can't be rushing off and risking the future of that universe for a school teacher."

The words cut deep into her heart. Never had he seemed more cruel. She couldn't tell which school teacher he made his jab at, it didn't matter, the wound cut into the flesh all-the-same.

"You," Clara began, flustered, "you, you cranky old man, you stupid heartless _Alien._"

He turned to her. She knew the word would hit the mark. It was out-of-character for her, but she didn't care, her despair had been replaced with rage, her tears with clinched teeth.

"I know what I'm doing, Clara, you don't"

"No you don't." Clara said. "What is the purpose of any of this, what is the goal, if you miss the glue that ties it all together? Have you never loved? Have you never risked it all? You may think you have, but your apathy shows you have never known love. Around two thousand years of existence and you've never known love. What a sad, pitiful life."

There was silence. Clara breathed long humid heaves of tears and anger. She no longer cared. She no longer cared about getting home, about seeing her family, about the Doctor or his stupid TARDIS. She only cared about the woman whose life slipped away. If the cost of saving Jennifer was the Doctor, Clara would make the sacrifice. She wouldn't let go of Jenn, she couldn't.

"My entire planet died," he began in a whisper, "my whole family, do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

Clara felt her resolve begin to soften.

"I've lost friends, I've lost love." He continued. "I would give it all up to save those from my past. I've lost my wife, I've lost my best friend. I've had to let go of the first person who made me smile, truly smile after I lost it all. Do you think I wouldn't go back and save her if I had the chance?"

Clara sank to the metal floor, the cold, unforgiving steel, pressing against her bare shins.

"I have loved." The Doctor said, "One might say I've loved more than any being in the history of time, and I've lost, I've lost so much more. I could try and save them, but it always ends up the same. You see, some points are fixed in time, they can't be changed. We aren't here to save the ones we love, our job is the save the one's we'll never have the chance to.

"Please?" Clara forced out through a shaky breath, choked back with tears.

He didn't say anything, there wasn't anymore to add. The Doctor walked down and slid next to her. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her huddled form and she leaned against his shoulder. Tears poured down the fabric of his coat. She played with the clasp absently, seeing nothing save the blur of her tears.

They sat on the cold, metal floor for a long time, neither saying a word, neither venturing an explanation, or apology for their harsh words. All was forgiven, as it always was. The room began to darken, Clara's eyes weighted down with sorrow. She tried to stay awake, tried to imagine some grand solution, but the harder she tried to think, the deeper her mind wandered. Each time her eyelids closed, the interval before they opened lengthened until finally, Clara drifted off to sleep, her head against his shoulder.

* * *

><p>When Clara awoke the TARDIS was empty. She lay on the floor, The Doctor's jacket strewn across her in a make-shift blanket. She sat in her spot and scratched the top of her head. She looked around the room, almost forgetting where she was. The entire dark nightmare felt like a horrible dream. For a moment she almost wished it all had been a dream, Dyad, Iowa, Jennifer. But it couldn't be a dream, it was reality, and a wonderful woman lay with her life slipping away each hour.<p>

Clara rubbed the sleep from her eyes and taking a breath, stood up on shaky legs. The door to the TARDIS was open.

"Hello?" Clara called out into the void.

She looked around her to determine where the Doctor was, but found nothing. She cautiously walked toward the door. She heard laughter in the distance. Feeding her curiosity, she peeked through the door. The room was bright, sun shining through high semi-circle windows, illuminating most of the area with little need for artificial light. The walls were white and clean, but combated with organic furniture and rugs. The entire room felt like a high-end flat in Belgravia, in one of the more historic buildings. Yet at the same time, the mix-match of high-end furniture with bohemian influences almost gave the room a hybrid feel with a trendy Camden Town flat that Clara spent all of ten minutes in, as a university student, while waiting for a friend.

"Clara!" The Doctor yelled between laughter, waving frantically for her to come over.

Clara cautiously walked to the three people infront of her. The Doctor was talking with a blonde doctor, who wore bright red lipstick and a brighter smile. She grabbed all of her hair and effortlessly flipped it from one side to the other.

The other person had her back to Clara. She had long, dark dreadlocks, and looked to be a couple inches taller than Clara. Clara approached and the woman turned.

Clara's heart dropped, her extended hand began to shake. She saw Jennifer in front of her, except it wasn't Jennifer at all. Long curls were replaced with dreads, tied back; soft, natural make-up was replaced with thick eye-liner and deep lipstick.

"So, I can assume I'm not the first that you've met." The imposter said.

"I… I…" Clara searched for words but found none.

"She's had quite the day," The Doctor cut in, "give her a second and I'm sure she'll have a witty retort and a rather odd scrunch to her face."

"Oh, poor thing," The blonde said, "I'm Delphine." She extended her hand in greeting.

Clara turned and shook her hand. "French." Was all Clara could force out.

"Well, she is observant." The imposter laughed before extending her own hand. "The name's Cosima."

"Cosima." Clara tried on for size. "I've seen your file."

"Not the greeting one normally expects," Cosima said, "But I'll roll with it. Where did you see it?"

Clara blushed. "Dr. Leekie's desk." She said.

The two women shared a nervous glance. "Oh, so definitely not recently." Cosima said with a knowing smile.

"No," Clara began, "I saw it-"

The Doctor cut her off with a wave of his hand behind the ladies. _Of course,_ Clara _thought, they had traveled in time. _She mentally hit herself at the lapse. Where were they? How far into the past were they? Or the future. Were they in the future?

"Jennifer?" Clara tried.

"Who?" Cosima asked, and was met with a light touch on her arm from Delphine's hand. "…Oh, Fitzsimmons? Woah."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Delphine said. The words were meant to be caring, but they bit hard. Clara wouldn't let herself break down again, she pushed the feeling aside.

She looked to The Doctor for assistance, a raised eyebrow, a nod, asking for any help.

"All very well, but let's not dwell on that right now. I want to hear about the two of you." The Doctor said.

The blonde smiled, a blush crossing her face, while turning around to face him.

"You're a forward one aren't you?" Cosima asked.

"No intrusion intended," He said, "I just like to get to know more about the people whose research I'm funding is all. I didn't mean you two exclusively, more about you two in general. I wasn't trying to say-"

"What my colleague is trying to ascertain is," Clara cut in, realizing alas the con, "what you guys are directly working on. We like to know the history of our scientists, and that way, by gauging who they are personally, we can better understand their passions and ambitions so we might better understand them."

"Oh," Delphine said, "well, I'm the lead on the project, and Dr. Niehaus,"-she said motioning to Cosima-"is the second. Though, we work best as a team, forgoing the more traditional lab hierarchy in lieu of a more egalitarian partnership."

Delphine's accent, enunciated each syllable equally, and Clara watched as Cosima smiled and nodded as she followed along with the words the French woman said. A brisk realization flowed from Clara's fingers to her chest, a smile crossing her face. They were more than lab partners, they worked together and yet Clara knew enough to notice when coworkers were more than simply colleagues.

"You're in love." She blurted out before she could contain herself.

"Yes," Cosima said, not missing a beat "it's one of the reasons we work so well together. We share each other's passions, passions in genetics, passions in science and passions in good wine." The last line Cosima said with a wink, that insinuated much more than wine.

Clara blushed and sent a wink back.

"Very good, very good." The Doctor said. "We are very interested in all of this genetic stuff, and you are high on our list of candidates."

The two women looked at one another. "Genetic… stuff?" Cosima asked.

"Don't let the Doctor in his name fool you," Clara said, "there is a reason he's interviewing grant candidates instead of working in a lab himself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" The Doctor asked.

"I think she's saying you're dumb, man." Cosima laughed.

"Cosima!" Delphine interrupted.

"Oh, don't worry," Clara said with a smile, "he's used to it, having to put up with me all of the time."

The three laughed. It felt good to laugh. Clara had for the briefest of moments felt the deepening sorrow subside, and felt the burn of her cheeks hurting from a smile. She felt a bond with Cosima and Delphine, they felt like far-removed relatives who showed up uninvited to Christmas dinner, only to seamlessly blend into the family dynamic.

"I like her." Cosima said, "you should hire more people like her."

"He couldn't afford more people like me," Clara said, "truth be told, he can't quite handle me."

"Well, that much is obvious." Delphine said with a laugh.

"Can we continue the interview?" The Doctor said, slightly annoyed at being the butt of a joke between everyone in the room.

"Oh yes, interviews," Cosima said, "hit me with the next question."

"Yes," The Doctor said, "It says here you had a debilitating respiratory illness a couple years back?"

"Yes," Cosima said, "It was pretty wicked. There was a time that it looked pretty bleak, like I wasn't going to make it. In the end it was a genetic breakthrough that allowed us to figure out a cure. I ended up writing my dissertation on using personal genetics for vaccines and cures, how Evolutionary Development of cells can both harm and help the validity of species. It was a pretty bomb dissertation."

"By 'Bomb' Cosima means it is a highly regarded piece of work within the field, with many leading scientists supporting her conclusions and data." Delphine said.

"Yeah," Cosima said, turning to Delphine, "that's exactly what I said, bomb."

Delphine lightly touched Cosima's hand, the contact was brief, an almost unperceivable touch of fingers, her index interlocking Cosima's pinky and holding before letting go. It was meant to go unnoticed, a conversation between them, however Clara was fluent in the language, more fluent than she wished to ever admit.

"Good, Good," The Doctor said, "that was our main concern, which was why we needed to make this unscheduled interview in such a rush, we just wanted to make sure that you had fully recovered in order to see this project to the end.

"Yeah," Cosima said, "I'm good to go. We'd really love your backing. Ever since the company that previously backed us went under, we've had trouble finishing our research and any kind of grant or funding would be immensely appreciated."

"I'll discuss with my colleague and we'll get back to you in a few weeks." The Doctor said before shaking their hands in turn and walking back to the TARDIS.

Clara smiled at the women. "Thank you so much for your time." She said.

"You're not really here to interview for a research grant are you?" Cosima asked.

Clara quickly decided which course of action she would take. It was Cosima's eyes that finally made her decide to tell the truth. She never could lie to Jennifer, and though she knew Cosima wasn't the same person, she couldn't bring herself to lie to her either.

"No," Clara said, "it was kind of obvious wasn't it?"

"Well," Cosima said, "The random blue phone booth was kind of a big hint."

"Yeah." Clara said, "really not his best, really not."

"So you knew Jennifer?" Cosima said. "What was she like?"

Clara felt her heart pound against the inside of her chest. She fought back tears, each time Jennifer's name was used in the past tense, she felt a sting, and tears well in her eye.

"Yes." Clara said. "She… She was wonderful. She was this passionate person who loved her students and loved her job, and she had these amazing dreams. But they weren't for her, they were for others. She had this almost overwhelming ability to see someone as they should be, as they wanted to be, instead of who they were. She would take that vision and encourage you to be that."

Clara wiped a tear from her cheek. Cosima raised a hand and rubbed Clara's arm.

"I never got to meet her," Cosima said. "but she is the reason I'm here, indirectly, she kind of saved my life."

Clara looked up, confused. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Cosima was sick," Delphine said, "Dyad had tried everything they could to cure Jennifer, but in the end they couldn't. Their failure in helping Jennifer opened up doors for Cosima that we wouldn't have had before. They allowed us to take risks we wouldn't have taken before. Without Jennifer, we may not have looked for a cure so passionately. Cosima might not have made it."

Delphine broke professional boundaries, and grabbed Cosima's hand in hers, pulling her close.

Clara looked back at the open door to the TARDIS, understanding finally why she was here, why he brought her to this point. Clara knew that by saving Jennifer, she would most likely damn Cosima. Clara couldn't fight for her love, knowing she would ruin theirs. The Doctor knew Clara couldn't do that. He showed her the importance of Jennifer Fitzsimmons' death, the importance of her life.

Clara Oswald had to do the one thing she was absolutely terrible at. She had to let go.

With tears in her eyes she walked back to the TARDIS and closed the door. He stood by the center console. He didn't say a word, he didn't have his normal smug smile. He sat solemnly, quietly. For the first time, Clara realized he was waiting on her orders.

"Let's go back." Clara said. "Let me say goodbye."


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

Her hand was cold.

Clara rubbed the top of her now-boney fingers. She looked at this woman, who in only a matter of months had changed everything Clara fought for, valued and believed in. She looked longingly at those closed eyes, wanting to speak with her, wanting to laugh and play, and yet all she heard was the rhythmic pulse of a heart monitor. All she saw was the ragged rise and fall of Jennifer's chest.

Clara wasn't sure what she would say when Jennifer woke. She wasn't sure how much she could tell her. She loved Jennifer Fitzsimmons, she loved her with all of her heart. Clara wrestled with the idea in her mind. She couldn't figure out if loving someone meant telling them all the truths she knew, to have an honest and authentic relationship, or hiding the information that would hurt an already dying woman. The phrase cut into her. Clara cringed each time she referred to Jennifer as dying. She began with hope, hope that something could change, that there would be some last minute move to change the future.

As the morning progressed, the sun slowly drifted through the window to rest over their hands, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of Jenn's hand. Clara turned to face the window, looking out into the brightness. The sun felt alien, it felt unwelcome. Dust danced within the rays, swirling in circles before her eyes. The room blurred as she focused on the small identical fragments helplessly floating upon the inner-currents of the air conditioning. They stayed hidden from the human eye, easy to ignore, until the sun lit up the forgotten specks. Clara marveled at how beautiful something so unintentional could appear.

Pieces. Each of these specks was but a piece of something, and they weren't even sure what they were a part of. They drifted through the currents, floating upon the air beyond their control. Everything around them ignored their rise and fall. Each piece was one in a million, a million miniscule fragments. However, for brief moments, the sun would shine upon them, illuminating a segment of their story.

Clara was but a piece, a piece of something bigger. She had split into a million fragments and walked all along The Doctor's time stream. The world passed her by, never noticing the duplications that lived and died beside them. They never connected them, or cared about their story. Clara Oswald felt important, she felt she had a role, but in the end she was but a speck of dust floating, unperceived. She was but one of many, only seen as a grouping of identicals, none-of-which in control of their fate.

"The sun is beautiful today." A soft voice whispered beside her.

Clara turned, wiping a tear from her eye. "_You_ look beautiful today." She responded.

The flare sparked ever-so-briefly within Jenn's eye. "You flatter me," she said, "you know I look horrible."

"No," Clara said, "you look sick and you look weak, but you in your worst moment, at your frailest, is more beautiful than the rest of the world at their best. I don't see the medical equipment or the bed, I see the teacher, the swimmer, the woman who never can't remember her room key. You're beautiful, and you always will be beautiful. It isn't flattery, it's a case of a girl that has fallen too in love with you, and can't see anything save your perfection."

Jennifer smiled. "You're so sweet. I wish I had the words to respond, but I guess it's the downfall of dating an English teacher. Everything you say is like a poem."

"What can I say?" Clara asked, "I have quite the muse, and when she's around I could write sonnets and poems. I'd like to take all the credit, believe me, I'm not exactly a humble person, but it seems you are the fuel to my work, Fitzy."

"I hope you'll find a new muse when I'm gone." Jenn said.

"Oh, Jenn." Clara said, tears welling in her eyes. "There will never be anyone as perfect for me as you. I wish I could fully explain that statement, you are my match, we are each part of something bigger and we've found one another."

"I love you, Clara." Jennifer breathed out in a light whisper.

Clara squeezed her cool hand. "I love you too, Fitzy."

"Tell me what brought you to Iowa, what brought you to me." Jennifer asked.

Clara looked at her, the debate raging in her head over truth or lies. Honesty or mercy?

She bit her lower lip, her throat tight, her cheeks tingling from the rising tears. Honesty.

"There used to be these things back in the sixties in London. They were used so that in a moment of trouble someone could contact the police. They were called Police Boxes…"

Jennifer slid up, propping herself on the pillow. Clara told it all. She talked about the Russian submarine, the pint-sized emperor. She talked about a woman with scales like a lizard, and ghosts that loved one another. She talked of a leaf.

Jennifer listened intently, laughing when she was meant to laugh and encouraging when she was meant to encourage. Never once did she question the authenticity of Clara's words, never once did she roll her eyes or question why Clara had never told her before. Clara wasn't sure if she took it all in as fact, or simply an elaborate story to take Jennifer out of the reality of the moment. Either way Clara continued.

She talked about the timestream and being split into a million fragments. She discussed how she was split into echos all throughout time, that she wasn't even fully sure if she was an original or just a well-made recipe. Clara talked about The Doctor. She talked about the first time they held hands, the first time she started to feel something within her chest when he walked in.

There wasn't jealousy in Jennifer's face. She held tightly to Clara's hands during the parts of the story that brought up painful memories. Clara told of the regeneration in the best words she could explain. It took quite a bit of time to fully explain to Jennifer but she listened.

There were times in the story where Jennifer, weak and exhausted, would drift off into sleep. Clara would sit back and watch her breathing, listen to the beeping of the heart monitor, and imagine how to tell the next part of the tale.

Days passed turning into weeks. They talked about other things. Jennifer talked about her family, how she wasn't supposed to tell them where she was. She talked about Greg, and how as she deteriorated he drifted away.

Jennifer would wake at times and ask Clara to continue her story. Usually it was when Jennifer was in the most pain. Clara realized the mystical tales of time travel and adventures were escapes for a hurting woman. Clara no longer cared if Jennifer believed what she was saying, she simply told her memoirs.

She talked about Danny. She wasn't ashamed of him, she had just never brought him up to Jennifer. He felt like so long ago, a lifetime away. She discussed their relationship. She was surprised to connect similarities between him and Greg. Both were good guys, loving people in their respective lives who seemed on paper to be the perfect partner. However some things can't be described on paper. Clara never walked into the hall at Coal Hill School and was paralyzed by the sight of Danny. Clara never took detours to watch him do something he was deeply passionate about. He was there in her life, and she felt she loved him, she felt she actually connected to him. However, Jennifer wasn't the same. She didn't feel she loved Jennifer she just knew it. There was this magnetic chemistry that made them inseparable. It caused Clara to chase her across a state for a swim-meet, it caused her to place clothes in her car but not book a hotel room. She took risks, insane risks for Jennifer because she needed her presence in her life. Love is a feeling that has different facets and levels. You never know if you've reached the precipice until you realize you're more in love than you ever have been before.

It felt like climbing a mountain. There is a summit, a peak, and Clara climbed towards it with Danny, expecting to see the world at the top, but when she got there she found Jennifer standing at that peak, and she saw a larger peak beside them, hidden earlier from the first. Jennifer extended her hand, and Clara, letting go of Danny, took her hand and walked up this new peak. She would never know this peak existed without experiencing the first, but all of that journey led her to this hospital room, with Jennifer's hand in hers.

When she told Jennifer about being left alone in Iowa by The Doctor's absent-minded determination, Jennifer seemed shocked. Clara wasn't sure if at that moment Jennifer finally began to accept the story, or if she simply mocked shock as a well-mannered audience.

Clara told Jennifer of this girl, one who gave her feelings she was yet to feel, this girl that she loved. She talked about the motel room. She didn't edit herself, she was explicit and they both giggled as she discussed the first night they had together. Clara told of Jennifer leaving for Dyad, and Clara trying to stay strong.

When she got to Rebecca, Jennifer cried.

"I always knew," She said, "even before I knew about myself. You can't rush people, even when you support them, you can't force them to understand themselves, or to tell you once they have. You can only love and encourage them, and one day be honored by their trust in you. I'm glad she told you. I'm glad that I got to help her; that we got to help her. I hope she remembers me…"

"Jennifer." Clara said.

"No,"-Jennifer waved her hand-"I'm not throwing a pity-party, I'm not trying to be down on myself. I just hope she remembers me, and I hope I was an encouragement to her. She was so observant, I'm not surprised she figured out she was my favorite; I'm also not surprised she figured out about us. Not seeing her grow into herself and love herself, not seeing her mature and take on the world, that's what is the hardest about this. It's all of the things I'm going to miss."

Tears poured down Clara's cheeks. She looked at the woman before her, bald, frowning, slightly yellow. She looked at this woman and saw instead the smile, the curls, the spark of life within her eye. Clara couldn't see the reality for she was too invested in the person within, the way her soul looked. The illness could take her body, but never could it take her soul.

Clara leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You won't be forgotten." Clara said. "You will save someone's life, you will change the world."

Jennifer furrowed her brow, confused.

"There is something I need to tell you, something about yourself."

Jennifer handled the news better than Clara expected. She poured out the stories of the clones, the explanation of the truth behind Dyad. She told her of her fight with The Doctor, of falling asleep amongst her tears. She told her of Delphine. She told her of Cosima.

"So, it's all real," Jennifer said, "the story, the blue box, The Doctor, the time traveling. It's all fully real."

Clara brushed a hand across Jenn's face, unable to speak, simply nodding in agreement.

"I'm just a clone?" Jennifer asked, eyes glazed with the inability to grasp the reality of the situation.

"No." Clara said firmly, "you are no more 'just a clone' as I am 'just an echo.' We are a piece of something; we are a part of something bigger. There are a million fragments of me, and perhaps a million of you. But of all of these pieces we found one another."

Jennifer nodded slightly.

"This piece"-Clara said, pointing to herself-"Found this piece"-she gestured to Jennifer-"Of all of the different possibilities out there, we found each other. For two people that match so well, that is amazing, but for both of us to be absolutely and unexplainably unique in the fact that we are anything but unique, that… that is a miracle. Jennifer, we are the perfect match. We are each pieces of something, of someone, and yet we are each pieces of each other. You are a piece of me, and I am a piece of you."

Jennifer smiled. "Carry that piece of me with you always." She said.

"I'll never put it down." Clara said. "I love you, Fitzy, and I'll always love you."

Jennifer smiled again. "You are good to me, pieces and all. We both live… we both experience… but yet we are not unique. We are perfectly unique… our love… our love is unique… our love is... our love is…"

"Shhh" Clara said, rubbing her hand over the few thin strands of that remained atop Jennifer's head. "Go back to sleep."

Clara pulled up the blankets around Jennifer and kissed her forehead. She held her hand and watched as she dozed off.

Jennifer never woke up.

Clara knew when she kissed her good night. She couldn't pinpoint why exactly, but something about the kiss, the words, felt so final. Jennifer stayed alive to hear the story, to hear Clara's tale. Maybe it gave Jennifer a few extra days, but once the tale was finished, once the story told, Jennifer floated away upon the dust caught in the sun's rays. Clara sat with her, and watched the beeping of the monitor slow before a static line, and a solid beep sounded the truth Clara already knew.

With that Clara kissed Jennifer's hand, and stood. She walked silently from the room, waking down the hall. She held the rim of her collar with the hand that had, after days, finally let go of Jennifer's hand. She felt guilty for not waiting, not watching the doctors take her away, but she had watched her soul float away, and saw no reason to punish herself with more. She took the elevator down, and walked around a corner. She heard a hissing sound from a storage room down the hall. She almost smiled. She didn't, she wasn't sure if she'd ever smile again, but in her darkest moment of despair, she almost smiled. The Doctor had known when he needed to come back, knew the exact moment in which Clara would be walking down this hall.

She opened the door and there he stood. There was no mischievous grin of knowing, there was no smile at all. He stood, and opened the door.

"Take me home." She said as she walked in the door.

"London it is." The Doctor responded.

"No." Clara said. "Take me back to _our _place."

She watched the look of confusion on his face morph into a look of knowing. He brought her where she asked. She crawled into the bed she had last shared with Jennifer and cried. She had spent so long being strong for Jennifer that she hadn't realized the deepening sorrow. The tears poured from her eyes until a final tear dropped down her cheek.

Weeks went by and the Doctor came to visit. Clara held the pillow tight, refusing to move. The Doctor nodded, and returned to his TARDIS. Clara watched him come and watched him go, time and time again. Finally, one day, he walked in the door and Clara stood. Her clothes were ironed, her hair immaculate. She had make-up on and though solemn, she stood with as much courage as she could muster.

"I'm ready." Clara said.

"Ready for what?" The Doctor asked.

"Ready to see the universe, Doctor." Clara said with determination, "Show me a planet, a planet no one has seen before, show me a planet that has never been discovered. I want to be the first person to step foot on it. Show me something wonderful and spectacular, a planet that is brighter than all of the rest. I will stand atop its surface, I will breath in the TARDIS-filtered air, and I will name the planet 'Fitzy.' Do these things so that she is remembered, do these things for her Doctor. Let us make her memory perfect."

The Doctor smiled. "The TARDIS is yours, just give me the orders and I'll take you anywhere."

Clara walked up and standing on her tip-toes kissed his cheek. "Thank you for being patient." She said.

"Come along, come along, we have a planet to name."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this story. I know the topic is niche and the crowd is small, I went into it knowing the story wouldn't come close to the readership of some of my other stories. I just had this passion to write this down. Though they don't have a show together, I can't help but feel these two belong together. I try to keep canon as much in tact when writing so that it feels like these two characters could actually meet under these circumstances and legitimately fall in love. Fitzwin holds a place in my heart for that.<em>

_Thank you so much to Jules, Olivia and Mayka for their help in this. Jules has been an amazing friend and my official test reader. Olivia and Mayka helped brainstorm a lot of the ideas that went into this story. In a way, the four of us all put a little of ourselves into this and I was simply the one who told it. If you've read this all, if you've invested in this tiny row-boat of a ship, I thank you. _

_I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction and I hope you will take the time to read my other fictions._


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